Angel of Death
by The Nutty One
Summary: Death. It's an easy way out. But who accepts your soul? Damon Salvatore has been plagued by his parent's choices, his heritage and need to hunt and gather souls. Only now has he sensed his mate, Elena; the only one who can soothe his demonic side. But will Elena manage to trust him when she's been hurt by men before?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

He threw the body across the alleyway with unnecessary force. It hit the opposing wall with a dull _thud_ before collapsing in the soft snow. There was no blood. There never was. When an unsuspecting pedestrian found the body, there would be no trace of a murder and nothing that could lead back to him.

Wiping the remaining droplets of acid from his lips, he turned his back to body. This was the way he survived. The way he'd survived for centuries, and the way he would continue to survive until she became his.

He had to find her. She would be the one that could end his self-inflicted torture.

Only her soul would put his own to rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

"Have you seen him? He's like, a total hottie!" Caroline Forbes called as soon as Elena Gilbert walked through the gates. Elena rolled her eyes but grinned anyway. Of course her friend would be on the lookout for another guy; she'd just broken it off with her previous guy of three weeks. "Don't you roll your eyes at me! Even you can't say he's not hot!"

Caroline's blonde hair shone in the light and her brown eyes sparkled with excitement. "I heard that he's in your chemistry class too! You two could hit it off…" Caroline trailed off and winked in her general direction.

Hitching her bag further on her shoulder, Elena shook her head. "Nah, I don't think so. I don't date. You know that." Fixing her fringe, she nodded towards the door just as the bell went. "Are you coming?"

"Oh God, don't make me! I've got double Home Economics! And it's cooking! Do you know how stressful that is?" Caroline moaned as they began the short walk back into the school. "I'll meet you here at break?"

"Yeah, ok. Good luck with your cooking."

She was here. He could feel her presence. Whoever she was, she called to him. Her soul was like a beacon of light, constantly beckoning for him to find her. It was the opposite to his own; hers (whoever she was) had a light, free soul compared to his own dark, demonic shadow.

The numbing ache that he'd felt for the last month had intensified when he'd walked through the school gates. It spread across his shoulder blades and itched beneath his skin. His wings wanted to be free; they burned with a need for freedom. For centuries he hadn't felt the aching pain, he'd forgotten how annoying it could be, and now it was back.

All because of her.

But just like the last time, he already knew how it would end.

A tragedy.

"Mr Salvatore? It might be your first day but I'd appreciate it if you paid attention."

He rolled his eyes once his biology teacher (a greying man in his late fifties that wore thin, rimless glasses). Little did the man know that he could end his life so easily. At the thought, he felt the stinging sensation of acid on his lips: an instinct reaction to the thought of fresh 'food'.

As if they could sense something, his class mates shifted uneasily. He'd been there two hours (it had been a double period of biology. Why had he even taken it?) and no one had even spoken to him. Well, besides the teacher…but that didn't count. Instead they kept away from him, choosing instead to whisper about him behind his back.

He could only hope that she was worth the effort if this was what he had to put up with.

Eventually the bell rang just as Elena started to fall asleep through her geography class. Seriously though? The hydrosphere? How was the percentage of precipitation over the oceans going to help her in later life? Gathering her things, she shoved them roughly into her bag before Mrs Miller – a middle aged woman whose moustache moved in the breeze of a nearby fan – could ask her to 'help collect worksheets'.

Letting the door close behind her, Elena braced herself for the onslaught of comments she was about to get. _It _had gotten out. The one thing she was embarrassed about… For a year she'd managed to keep what had happened a secret, only telling the people that needed to know. Hell, even Caroline didn't know about it and she told Caroline everything…

And now _they _knew. _They_ were four guys. Relatively harmless looking cowards that loved to annoy anything on two legs. She wouldn't be surprised if she saw them talking to a tree. Saying that, they probably already had. They weren't the brightest of sparks. Poor kids.

So far she'd managed to avoid them all together. One of them was in her geography class every now and again (when he could be bothered to actually attend) and today had been the rare occasion that he'd been there. But as she'd come to expect, they never did anything if their friends weren't there. They seemed to shit bricks around her and needed the others for support. It was kind of sad really.

During the lesson, he'd only given her one sad, slightly mocking smile. In other words, all was good.

Until now.

"Hey, Gilbert!" One of them called in his low, mocking tone. A quick glance to her left told her it was Klaus Mikaelson: the notorious 'player' of the school who was known for taking girls back to his favourite toilet cubicle. Lord knows what he did in there; Elena didn't really want to know. Rumour had it that he'd caught an STD about a month ago.

"Mikaelson," she said slowly, trying to keep the boredom from her voice. "I haven't got time for you. What do you want?" She knew what this would be about. She knew what it would be about as soon as he'd said her name like that.

"Aw! Are you too busy with Tyler's dick?" He made a wet slurping sound with his mouth. The three beside him (Twit, Minge and Knob as she'd named them) laughed loudly at his antics.

Inside, she felt the anger rise. Elena knew they'd twist the tale of what had happened. Of course she hadn't done anything like that. Tyler had tried to force her but he'd given up after she'd broken his nose. "It wasn't like that, Mikaelson, and you know it." God, how she'd come to detest seeing that choppy, blonde hair and tanned skinned. If only she could run past him with a shaver and shave his parting off.

He seemed unaffected by her comments. "But I was going to ask you if you want to –" he made the slurping noise again. None of them seemed to be able to say sexual terms without spluttering… - "my dick."

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend?" Elena spat out. She'd had the line prepared for a few days, just waiting for the right moment to use it. "I'm sure Katherine's sucked enough dicks around here. One more wouldn't hurt her. Well, that's if you've got one to suck."

Mikaelson's shining blue eyes widened and friends fidgeted uncomfortably. While they were stunned, Elena pushed past them, blinking away tears as she did.

The walk to where she met Caroline was a long one, thankfully. It gave her time to compose herself but not forget the incident. By the time she reached Caroline, she saw Mikaelson through the geography window. Good. He was still shocked.

As soon as she saw Caroline, she saw worry flit over her face. Her eye brows knitted together and she walked slowly forward. "Are you alright? You've got a face like thunder."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Maybe her reply was a bit too snappy, a bit too harsh for her friend so she muttered a quick 'sorry' after. Mikaelson and his gang had started…it would be unlikely that they'd just fade away and become a bad memory.

"Ok," Carline gave in, respecting her friend's privacy. "Tell me if you need anything."

"I will do." Elena's tone clearly said that she'd do anything but that. After the Tyler incident (she couldn't even bare to think of it as how it was) she didn't really show her true feelings to anyone. No; that showed weakness. And weakness was what she had shown Tyler.

Quietly they walked over to their usual spot – a small bench that was painted green.

"How did your cooking go?" Elena asked, to fill in the silence that had settled around them. She dumped her bag on a nearby bench. This was their usual spot: a small wooden bench surrounded by grass with an overused, muddy trail leading to it.

"Just – just don't talk about it." Caroline sighed as she placed her bag beside Elena's. "It died. I ended up putting the oil in the pizza base and the frying the bacon in the egg… I'm just glad she didn't have to taste it…"

"I hope you didn't fail it," said Elena. "Did she tell you what grade you got?"

Caroline nodded and her eyes lit up in suppressed shock. "I couldn't believe it. I got an A! An A for a growling pizza!"

"Chuffing hell, you've been lucky." Elena glanced quickly over Caroline's shoulder where she saw Mikaelson and his group crowding around a poor tree. She knew they'd start talking to one sooner or later…

When her gaze refocused on Caroline, she saw her friend nodding eagerly. "I know, right? I swear she's gone blind…" She trailed off mid-thought. "Do you think it's because of the new kid? Maybe he has a thing for teachers…"

"Do you even know his name? Or anything about him for that matter?"

"Damon Salvatore: World Class Hottie number 1, tall, dark, and handsome. Quite mysterious too, I haven't seen him talking to anyone yet. Saying that, I haven't even seen him myself. I've only heard that off the great vine." A small smile started to play on the edge of her lips. "You should talk to him, you know, get to know him a bit. You never know, he could be your one and only!" She sang the last few words.

Elena rolled her eyes and glanced away. "Nah, I don't think so. You know me I –"

"-Don't date. I got you, girlfriend. But at least give him time. Don't go all defensive on him like you did the last guy that happened to like you… Trust him…"

She scoffed and hitched her bag onto her shoulder just as the clouds opened up – there was the typical Virgina weather for you – and the bell rang to signal the end of break. "We have assembly, don't we?"

"Smooth way of changing the subject," Caroline muttered sarcastically.

The walk to the school hall was a short one before they got squashed between everybody else that was trying to squeeze through the two small doors. The school hall was small and square so everybody was crowded in like sardines in a tin. Rows upon rows of chairs were placed out with only enough room for their feet never mind their bags. Picking one of the best seats in their form row, they placed their bags on the chair beside them.

"I wonder what this is going to be about," Caroline groaned as she slouched down in her chair.

"Probably something about a new vending machine or something as equally boring and random," whispered Elena just as the last person walked into the hall. The doors banged shut and the late comer sat in the row in front, just a few chairs to Elena's left.

"Oh my God!" whispered Caroline under her breath. "Oh my fucking God! That's him: Mystic Fall's most eligible bachelor!" Out of her eyes corner she saw Caroline messing around with her hair and smoothing out her trousers.

From what Elena could see, he did look alright. His raven coloured hair was messy and jelled to one side. Not quite a comb over, but not splattered to his head either. His shoulders were broad and stocky, and he had a strong jaw, covered with light stubble. But his skin was exceptionally pale, paler than her own, and she was often referred to as pale. She couldn't see his arms because of the long sleeves he wore but the shirt clung to his arms and every time her moved, the muscles rippled beneath.

"What did you say his name was?"

"Salvatore. Damon Salvatore," Caroline whispered encouragingly. "If you don't like him, I'll certainly have a shot at him…"

"Why are you telling me to go after hi-" A sharp _shh_ from the row behind made Elena pause in what she was saying. "I'll tell you later."

Just as she's suspected, the assembly was about something boring and random… Something about an overpriced tray break on at lunch and a 'Elena Nacky' jewellery stall being set up in the main lobby. That could only mean that the place would be filled with shit shop shoppers for the next few days.

As the minutes passed her legs went numb because of the cheap plastic chairs and her back ached from the awkward position she was in. In front of her she saw Mikaelson and his girlfriend (or jockey's as Caroline had named them) leave to go to the 'toilet'. Elena cringed internally.

When she looked back at the headmistress (attempting to pay attention) she couldn't help but feel a gnawing anxious feeling in the back of her mind. No matter how much she tried to focus, the feeling grew bigger. She wanted to look around, but she didn't give into the urge. It was probably just Twit, Minge or Knob attempting to rile her up after their previous failures.

Yeah, that was probably it.

But the more she tried to focus on the random Shit Shop Jewellery stand, the more and more she felt the feeling. It seemed to be more than just the feeling of being watched. It was almost like it was drawing her attention to somewhere or to _someone_ in particular. If this was Twit, Minge or Knob then they'd really improved their tactics since the last time…

Her left hand come across to grasp her right wrist and played with the watch on her wrist. It was something she always did, a nervous habit of sort that calmed her down. It had flared up particularly badly after the Tyler incident. Shaking her head to try and dislodge the feeling, she attempted to focus all her energy onto something annoying – such as her numb legs that had slowly beginning to prickle with the onslaught of pins and needles.

But even that didn't help to stop the feeling.

Risking a glance towards Caroline, she studied her friend for a moment. Caroline was as relaxed as ever, slouched down in her chair so she looked even shorter than normal. No then, Caroline couldn't feel it.

Maybe it was just her? Had the run in with Mikaelson made her nerves rocket sky high?

Yeah, it had to be that.

As she looked away from her friend, Elena's eyes fell onto the black haired figure sat just in front. Damon didn't look as comfortable as before. He sat tensely and the muscles in his back quivered as if he were shivering. He moved his head to the side, and out of his eye corner he saw her.

His eyes were midnight black; darker than an oil spill yet as shallow as a puddle. There were no depth to his eyes; instead they were clouded over with a mist that seemed to slowly float over his pupils. Damon's gaze was cold and unwavering and seemed to cut through her defences like a knife through butter.

For the first time in her life, Elena couldn't maintain eye contact.

Breaking away from his unkind eyes, she focused on the assembly. From what she picked up, the Shit Shop stall was being held from the 23rd of October to the 26th of October which meant that there would be plenty of Halloween things involved; which consequently meant first years running around with spider earrings in their ears and tacky pumpkin rings, and thinking they were the next best thing since sliced bread.

A nudge to her foot startled her from the daze she'd slipped into. There was only so much about overpriced shortbreads that one could take…

"Look who's looking!" Caroline mouthed before nodding in Damon Salvatore's direction.

Reluctantly, Elena cast her eyes towards Damon. When their eyes locked, Damon smirked and raised one elegantly shaped, black eyebrow. Besides the cute guy in the coffee shop, he was the only guy who had ever made her stomach flip with just their smile. But Damon's smile was different to Coffee Shop Guy's – Damon's was a full blow, 150 kilowatt light-up-the-whole-of-Vegas kind of smile. He continued to smirk knowingly, almost as if he knew what he was doing.

What had happened to Mr 'Don't come anywhere near me otherwise I'll kill you with my superhuman death glare'?"

"What?" Elena mouthed with a shrug of her shoulders.

The only reply she got was another smirk before he turned his back to her and focussed back on the headmistress.

Over the last five minutes of the assembly, she felt the awful watching feeling again. But when she looked up, no one was looking in her direction. And it couldn't be Mikaelson – he still hadn't returned from the toilets… Only once did Damon smirk through the whole thing.

But what she did notice was that he fidgeted more. He began to roll his shoulders more after he'd seen her, as if they ached more than they had done before he'd looked at her.

When the bell went, Damon Salvatore was the first out of seat, and the first out of the hall.

He'd been so stupid, so very very stupid. He could have lost it all just because he wanted to see her face one last time…

Ever since he'd walked into the hall, Damon had known that she was there. It was why he'd purposely picked that seat, so he could see her out of his eye corner whenever he needed to. Part of him had hoped that seeing her would soothe the aching pains across his shoulder blades, instead it had made it worse. His body had known she was there, less than two meters away, and he'd done nothing. Absolutely nothing.

His body longed for the touch of her skin, for her soul to calm his tortured being. His soul called out to her.

Damon ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. Thinking about her wouldn't do him any good; he needed to do something…anything to take his mind off her.

As if responding to his turmoil, Damon saw the dark crow-like shape in the bushes. He knew that shape well, too well. It would be larger than an average crow, its feathers mere whispers in the wind.

Moments passed before the creature revealed itself. First its long beak before the shadows peeled back from its 'feathered' face to reveal two shining, dark eyes that eerily reflected the murky light that filtered through the trees. Its body cut through the shadows; lithe and agile. Inch by inch, the creature showed its self until its eyes fixed on Damon's.

The crow: the being that guided souls to their next journey, wherever that may be.

The fact that it had appeared before Damon was proof of what he was…

Rising from the rock he sat on, he brushed the dirt from his jeans and rolled his shoulders. Raising the palm of his hand, he signalled for the Crow to wait. Closing his eyes, he focussed on the ache between his shoulder blades. He imagined them unfurling, the shape they'd take and how they would feel against his skin. Heat spread across his shoulder blades and down his spine, filling his body with a too familiar tingling sensation. Damon felt the muscles in his back spasm before he heard the tell-tale sound of his shirt tearing. Scraps of white fabric fell around his feet like broken feathers.

When he opened his eyes, he nodded towards the crow. Quietly the crow lead him through the forest towards a nearby small town. Thankfully, no one would see him like this except her or the person he was being led to. If anyone happened to brush past him they would feel a cool breeze but nothing else.

Damon kept up with the crow's easy flying pace. He knew what was going to happen, what he was going to have to do… After so many journeys he'd grown immune to what he had to deliver. Well, as immune as someone who delivered a death sentence could be…

Minutes passed before the crow stopped abruptly outside a semi-detached house. It was a standard house with a small, well-kept front garden that held a few rose bushes. Thankfully, he saw no children's toys. The jackal fixed its cold stare on him and raised its pointed nose to the air. Crows were scavengers; their sense of smell guiding them to a carcass. That's all this person would be to the crow: a carcass of its former self, one that he would aid to the other side.

In this state, it allowed him to go through the front door without creating a noise. He really was a ghost whenever he allowed his real self to be free.

Inside, the house was decorated in floral wall paper and had a cream carpet leading up the stairs. The crow didn't leave him much time to take notice of anything else, instead it lead him up the stairs (past many happy family photos) and to a darkened room.

The room was mainly dominated by a large bed. On the bed was a woman in her early forties, and beside her on the bedside table, was a vase of flowers. Tulips, if Damon thought correct. He stood in the doorway for a bit while a man – presumably the husband – continued to make his wife feel comfortable.

In the end it would make no difference.

Even from across the room, Damon could sense the cancer as it flowed through her blood. Leukaemia. That was the disease that would rob this woman of her life. She was frail and ill, her skin a sickly yellow and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. Surprisingly her hair was perfect. Usually victims wouldn't be bothered about such trivial things.

"Just a biscuit, please, and some tea as well."

At first Damon thought she was talking to him. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he watched as her husband nodded and gave her one last kiss. As he turned her back on her, Damon watched the fake smile fall from his face. The man already knew it was too late. He just didn't know how late it was.

When he passed through Damon, the man shuddered but made no move to stop. He continued down the stairs as if he hadn't felt anything.

Moving into the room, he motioned for the crow to wait outside. As he moved, he saw the woman's head turn towards him. A small, sad yet knowing smile danced across her yellow skin.

"So, it's time," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Damon sighed and nodded slowly. This woman was too prepared for death; it was almost as if she had long ago given up.

Across the room, Damon caught sight of himself in the mirror on the dresser. His eyes were dark and misted over: not with tears but with the souls of those he'd already taken. The shadows danced over his eyes, silently screaming inside him. But outstretched behind him, were two wings. They were tattered and worn because of his parent's choices. One of the two things that marked him as a demon. Wisps of silver smoke peeled from them and fluttered in the breeze that came from the open window. From his body they had a span of three meters and nearly touched the ceiling of the room. They were impressive and formidable, a sign of what he was and what he was about to do.

"Are you ready?" he murmured but his voice was hollow and smooth, designed to make the victim drowsy to make their passing easier.

"Now is the best time," she replied with the same sad smile as before. "Please, I don't want to keep you waiting."

Nodding, Damon crossed the room in three large strides. Gently he placed his hands on either side of the woman's face, holding her steady so she wouldn't move. "Just let go," he whispered soothingly. As he murmured the words, he could feel the acid coating his lips. "You won't suffer any longer…" Slowly he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn't a kiss of such, only in the way that her lips touched his. The connection between them was enough to allow him to free her soul from its human shell and the acid burned away at the last connections it could possibly share with its mortal life. All too soon he felt the soul give way and the strings frayed and snapped.

And then she was gone.

With practiced hands, he laid the woman's body back down on the pillows and rearranged the bed covers around her.

Wiping the acid from his lips, he nodded towards the crow. On cue, the crow's feathers began to rise and twist in the air like curling grey smoke. Gradually, the crow disappeared from Damon's sight, the only sign it had ever been there were the dark smoky wisps that filtered through the open window.

Suddenly the room felt cold, empty and bare.

Quickly, Damon turned his back to the body on the bed and slowly made his way down the steps, his feet feeling heavy. As he passed through the hallway, he saw her husband pottering around in the kitchen, whistling a mournful tune as he collected the tea and biscuits on a tray. Damon watched him as he began to make his way through the hallway – through Damon as well – and drag his feet up the stairs.

Without a backward glance, Damon left the house and allowed the man to be on his own. Moments later, a sharp cry of sadness rang through the air. He could feel the pain of the man's despair spread through his body and it was only centuries of practice that Damon was able to remain standing.

**Hey up! Hope you like the new story that I've started. Well, I say started but it's been sat on my computer for about a year… So I decided to change the character's names and tweak little bits here and there to fit the fandom. As for what Elena has been through (any ideas?) it will be revealed later on. The same with Damon's heritage and more about him. **

**This story came about because I needed a way to get thoughts from my mind and the only way I could do this was by writing. So yes, I have been through was "Elena" is going through and I have had comments from people such as "Mikaelon" so I would appreciate it if I didn't get any reviews saying "oh you don't know what it's like." **

**And the supernatural element is purely added to take my mind away from past events. I hope you like this, and I hope you review and continue to read the upcoming chapters! Thank you! :D xx **

**PS, if you have any questions on Damon, Elena or anything/anyone else don't hesitate to put them in your review or pm me. I'll get back to you when I can. xx**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"Jesus," Jenna exclaimed as she reached for the TV remote. "Elena? Have you seen this?"

At her aunt's call, Elena raised her head and glanced at the TV. She finished chewing her cornflakes before she answered. "Depends what it is. I'm going deaf, you know I need the TV louder," she joked as she wiped milk from her lips.

Jenna rolled her eyes before increasing the volume. Taking her gaze from her aunt, Elena watched as the presenter droned on about a murder with a fake sadness laced into his voice. He shuffled the papers around in front of him and pretended to give the impression that he actually cared about the person.

In the top left hand corner of the TV a grainy picture of young woman was being shown. She looked around 16 – the same age as Elena – but her hair was longer and darker. The woman – Bella Swan – had been found in an alleyway a few streets away.

The presenter then went on to talk more about the nature of the crime. Apparently police were baffled as to how she may have been murdered: there was nothing to suggest a struggle and no visible injuries to her body. The only find they had was the remaining droplets of acid that had been left on her lips.

But that amount of acid wouldn't be enough to kill someone.

"The poor girl," Jenna muttered sadly. "I want you to stay away from that area, do you hear me?" her voice suddenly turned stern. "If you see a creep following you, go knock on the nearest house or get into a crowded area!"

Elena could barely contain the urge to roll her eyes, but she smiled and nodded. "Don't worry. I'm not one to go down an alleyway with a creep." She chewed on another spoonful of cornflakes. Once she'd finished, she waved the spoon in the air as she spoke. "Who's moved in down the road? I saw some boxes piled up outside when I was walking home yesterday."

Her aunt lowered the volume down on the TV, causing the presenter's voice to disappear into the background. "I'm not too sure. I haven't met them yet, but Alaric says that someone's renting the house out for a short while. Ask him when you get home; he might be able to tell you a bit more than I can." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Apparently no one's seen the new tenant, and you know that the landlords moved to Wales a couple of months ago."

"I'll go by that way with Caroline, we might see someone then." Elena stood and placed her spoon in her empty bowl. "I better be going. I'll see you when I get back." She dumped the bowl in the kitchen sink as she passed and grabbed her bag. "See ya later! Love you, Jenna." Elena shouted as she closed the front door with a bang.

"Love you too! But I'd appreciate it if you don't take the door with you!"

**Angel of Death**

"You've got chemistry next, don't you?" Caroline asked as they walked through the corridors. Around them students bustled by in their haste, pushing past the smaller first years.

"Yeah, it's only a single though. It shouldn't be too bad." Well, she hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Generally the rest of the class ignored her. There was only one person in that class that actually talked to her (that wasn't Mikaelson, Twit, Minge or Knob). But he sat at a different table. Most of the time, their lesson was spent sending coded notes between each other in an effort to pass the time. "Is Matt here? I haven't seen him all day?"

"Sorry, but your class is going to be hell. I haven't seen him either," Caroline answered. She stopped abruptly in the corridor, causing students to bump into her and curse under their breath. "But Damon is…" she trailed off with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Before Elena could say anything, she ducked into the nearest classroom with a grin lighting up her face from ear to ear.

She turned the last corner to the chemistry lab. It was the furthest away in the school and down a flight of stairs to reach it. The lights were hardly ever on so the door was secluded in shadows.

Elena groaned when she saw Mikaelson and his group hanging around the doorway.

As soon as they recognised her shadow, Mikaelson stepped forward out of the group. "Hey, Eleanor," he said with an eyebrow raised, begging her to react to the nickname.

She didn't answer him. Instead she clutched the hand rail until her knuckles turned white. The image of Mikaelson faded away, only to be replaced with mucky brown eyes, clouded with envy. Tyler's eyes. He'd used her nickname (once a harmless taunt from Mikaelson) and turned it into something else. Her breathing spiked as the flashback continued to haunt her mind. This was what she hated the most, how he still affected her even a year on. Elena continued to take deep breaths through her mouth, the way she'd taught herself in the past. She'd had to coach herself through them in the past because she didn't want Jenna to know how 'messed up' she actually was.

When the flashback disappeared, she shook her head to clear the remaining fragments.

In front of her, Mikaelson still stood with one eyebrow raised. How long had passed? It seemed as if a whole five minutes had elapsed.

"Hey, Michelle," she muttered back, her heart not into it.

As if they could sense something, Mikaelson and his group frowned before taking a few steps back. What was wrong with them? They _never_ backed down that easily…

From the light above the steps, another shadow was cast down into the darkness. Behind her, she could hear the light footsteps as someone sauntered lazily down the steps. When she looked out of her eye corner, she saw a leather jacket and pale skin.

Elena jumped when the person spoke. "I didn't mean to startle you." His voice was smooth yet rough at the same time but she could hear the smirk in his words. "Is this the chemistry lab?"

"Yeah, it is…" She trailed off, flustered when his raven coloured eyes met hers. Brushing her fringe out of her eyes, she recovered herself quickly. "Hey, I'm Elena Gilbert. You're Damon Salvatore?" She was _not_ going to allow one guy to make her brain go all mushy. She was _not_ going to let him…

"I know," he said. "I saw you yesterday in the assembly." Damon suddenly frowned to himself and rolled his shoulders stiffly.

Heat rose in her cheeks and Elena instantly knew she'd look like a tomato. Why did she have to blush now? She rarely blushed anymore. Yet he had the ability to make her flush like a Ribena berry.

"Your blush is cute," Damon murmured, making her blush deeper. Was he doing this on purpose? Hardly any guys made comments like that to her…

**Angel of Death**

Why had he said that? Why the fuck would he say something like that? Damon could have shot himself – if it would do any good, he'd just heal straight away anyway – for being so stupid. Why was he paying her compliments? The last thing he wanted to do was get close to her…

But he knew why. Of course he did, it was one of the reasons he was attracted to her. Whenever she blushed her soul would shine brighter than ever because of the reaction she gave him. Her body was responding to his. That was all he needed. Even without physical contact, just being near her calmed the turmoil of his soul.

In a spectacular 'I'm-going-to-save-you-from-insane-awkwardness' fashion, the chemistry teacher swung open the door with a grand gesture. Abruptly Elena turned away from him and he missed the warmth of her soul instantly. As she began to walk away from him and into the classroom, the icy fingers of darkness clawed through his body.

Damon shivered before following her.

The walls of the class were a garish red and crudely drawn posters of electrolysis equipment and hydrocarbons. On the far wall a large periodic table (its corners peeling from the wall) with the names of certain groups of elements roughly written across the top. Grey desks were placed at seemingly random intervals and a work bench snaked around the edge of the classroom with Bunsen burners set up beside gas switches.

Leaning against the nearest desk, Damon waited for the teacher – Mrs Bonnie Bennett if the name on the board was anything to go by – to turn to him with a chemistry book and data book in her hand. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and had her brown coloured hair scraped back into a quick pony tail. From what she was wearing, a mix and match of colours, she didn't seem to have much care for her appearance, either that or her electricity had cut off that morning…

"Hello, Damon," she said as she passed him the books. He didn't like the way her hazel eyes flashed over him with a knowing look. It was like she could see through him, as if she could see the tortured souls that he'd fed from. "Here are the things you should need for the course. If you need anything, just give me a shout."

Bonnie turned away from him so he stood awkwardly beside a spotty boy with short brown hair who smiled at him like he was on dope. After a few seconds had passed, he cleared his throat and asked, "Where do I sit?"

She didn't seem to care much, she just waved over her shoulder and said, "Sit next to Elena if you want." In her words Damon could hear the kind yet humorous tone.

Did she know something?

Frowning, Damon collected his bag and walked casually towards Elena. Her long dark hair had fallen over her face and she was drawing in the back of her purple book. When he pulled the chair out, it scraped along the floor causing her to jump and look up at him. Instinctively her eyes widened and she covered the drawing with her arm. What was she so secretive about?

"Is it alright if I sit here?" he asked slowly, to cover the fact that he'd noticed her reaction. Damon placed his bag under the table.

"Yeah…yeah, it's fine," Elena murmured, slight breathless. She hastily flipped to the front of her jotter to cover the drawings. "So, what brings you here? I don't remember seeing you around town…" She trailed off and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I'm being nosy. I shouldn't have asked."

Damon found himself smiling despite what she asked. So far, he'd gotten away with not having to tell anyone. But why shouldn't he tell her? As long as he missed out the important bits, the basic story was alright… "My parents split up –" _over a millennium ago, _he added to himself "- so I moved here with my mum. It's a big difference from where we used to live." _Course it was a big difference!_ He mentally said to himself. He couldn't believe he'd even said it…

"I'm sorry for your parents splitting up. I've lived here all my life; a Virginia bird through and through."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I never really knew my dad so I don't miss him much. Which part are we studying?" Damon asked as a way to turn the conversation away from himself.

Elena thought for a moment before speaking, "Acids. You should pick it up easy enough."

_Oh the irony_, Damon thought as he thought back to the acid that was used to sever the soul's attachments. He should easily get an A in this…

After that Bonnie tapped the board once and everyone turned to the front. As she talked through the pHs of acids and alkalis, Damon zoned out and instead focussed on something else.

There was something about Bonnie Bennett that unsettled him. She had looked at him as if she knew what he was and what he was capable of. The thought unsettled him. Looking back at her, he tried to push through the shield that usually surrounded a person to protect their soul from beings like Damon.

Normally the shield gave way with a little effort on Damon's part, but this one didn't. Every time he tried, he came up against a force that rebounded him and made him shiver. Never before had he come across something like this. It almost seemed like she was aware of what he was doing. Normally mortals unconsciously kept the shield up until they were about to die but they didn't usually know how to give them more energy…

Damon tried again, this time more forceful than the last. Her shield buzzed around his power and retaliated with a mental push that left his shaken to his core.

She'd stopped writing on the board for a moment; that was the only sign that she'd been affected.

A nudge on his foot brought him out of his reverie. He turned to face Elena who mouthed 'are you alright?' Nodding to her, he jotted a few notes down in his book.

Out of his eye corner, he saw Elena's hands flexing. Why was she doing that? Damon quickly scanned the class for any sign of what might make that reaction. Then he heard it.

Like a slippery serpent, the words coiled through the air. "Elena…Elena…_Eleanor…_" the words were whispered in a mocking manner. Damon saw her stiffen and her head turned slightly away from him. Following her movements, Damon locked eyes with the boy he'd seen earlier.

He was tanned and had blonde hair that was cut in a disastrously choppy mess. His blue eyes were narrowed into a cruel gaze as he continued to taunt her.

Damon saw the way Elena's breathing had spiked and anger coursed through him. The heat spread across his shoulder blades in response to her soul's distress. Whatever she felt, he would feel the counterpart emotion; what made her happy, would make him happy…and what she feared or upset her would cause fiery waves of anger to roll through him. He could feel the tightening of the skin around his shoulder blades, the tell-tale sign that his wings were about to unfurl.

"Mikaelson," he heard Elena mutter under her breath.

Acid began to coat his lips and he rolled his shoulders to try and soothe his wings. He couldn't kill the boy in public, nor could he release his wings… Instead he met Mikaelson's eyes and, with the same force he'd used against Bonnie's shield, he pressed his power against his shield.

Unlike Bonnie Bennett, Mikaelson's shield buckled under the force within seconds. Damon felt the impact of shards on his skin as if the shield had shattered into a million tiny glass fragments. He knew what this would do to the boy. It would leave him shaken and empty, as if he was missing part of himself. With time (it differed from person to person; sometime it took years, other times only days) the shield would repair itself but for now, his soul would be an easy choice for someone who needed to feed.

"Damon!" Bonnie's voice cut through his trance, making his drop his power. With a smirk, he looked at Mikaelson: the boy was pale and breathing shallowly, clearly disturb by the incident.

Turning his attention to the woman, he saw the disgruntled look on her face. She knew something. She knew something wasn't right about him…

And that wasn't good…

**Angel of Death**

"He's sitting beside you in chemistry? OMG you lucky bitch!" Caroline exclaimed once Elena had finished telling her about the chemistry lesson. "What did you find out?" She glanced over her shoulder, and moved forward in the Starbucks queue. She turned back to Elena while the person in front ordered.

"Nothing much. His parents have split up, he doesn't know his dad and Mystic Falls is a big change from what he's used to. And he looks to have a vendetta against Mikaelson too." Elena didn't say that he found her blush cute. If Caroline ever found that out she'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh that's crap, Elena! Seriously, that's all you got out of him after an hour?" She rolled her eyes but her words were softened by the smile on her lips. "But you've always got chemistry tomorrow!" She laughed lightly before turning to the counter to order her coffee.

Even from where Elena was stood, she saw Caroline's eyes light up as she spoke to cute-coffee-shop guy. But he just didn't seem to be picking up on her flirting techniques. Instead his brown eyes looked at her with a purely friends only interest. Just as he turned to pass the cup to someone else, Elena caught sight of his name tag. Elijah was written on the small tag, in neat hand writing. So cute-coffee-shop guy did have a name…

"Hi there. What can I get you to drink?" He asked and his strong English accent showed.

"Just a standard black coffee, please, I don't like anything special." As she spoke, Elena looked over her shoulder to see that Caroline was walking over to a table by the window. A few moments passed before he handed Elena her coffee.

"Thanks. Have a good day!" Elijah said, before glancing over her shoulder to the next customer.

Elena weaved through the crowded coffee shop, towards Caroline. Before she was even sat down, Caroline began talking.

"I can't believe he didn't even flirt back! I think he might be gay… If he is gay then it saves my face and doesn't look too bad."

"No, it just goes to show that you like to bark up the wrong tree." Elena laughed lightly. God it felt good to laugh again. To be care free and not having to watch over her shoulder.

A disgruntled look flowered Caroline's face. "Yeah, that's not very good either is it? Now come on, spill. I want more on the elusive Mr Salvatore."

**Angel of Death**

"Hey, Alaric," Elena said as she walked through the kitchen. Alaric was Jenna's boyfriend though they'd been together for ten years and acted like a married couple. It would only be a couple more months before they got married, surely? The suspense was killing her!

He smiled before putting the newspaper back on the kitchen table. "Hey to yourself," he smiled before standing. "What do you want today? Jenna's working late so it'll just be me and you."

Elena shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I really don't mind. It's up to you; all of your cooking is nice." And it was true. No one could cook better than Alaric. As Alaric began to move around the kitchen collecting ingredients and equipment, Elena stole his seat by the kitchen table. "Have you seen the new tenants moving in?" Now was as good a time as any to ask…

A small chuckle shook Alaric's shoulders. "I wondered why you were still in the kitchen. I knew you wanted something." He paused for a moment, his head in one of the cupboards. "Lasagne alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. We haven't had it in ages! It'll be a pleasant change."

"Cool, cause I can't be bothered with anything else." He grabbed the rest of the ingredients before placing them on the counter. "The new folk are the Salvatore family. Well, I say family…it's just mother and son. You might have met him, Damon I think…"

At Damon's name, Elena felt heat rise in her cheeks. Thank God that Alaric had his back to her.

"I saw them the other day," Alaric continued after adding something to a pan. "They seem nice enough and we chatted for a bit. They wouldn't let me in the house though; wouldn't even let me step foot into their garden… So, yeah, they're strange but they seem nice enough…"

Elena nodded even though Alaric couldn't see her. "Yeah, Damon seems alright. I'm sat next to him now in chemistry. By the sounds of it, his parents split up when he was young."

"But there's something about them. I don't know. It might just be me in old age, but I got Goosebumps talking to them."

At that, Elena frowned. She hadn't got Goosebumps around Damon and she hadn't had any weird vibes from him either. But as she thought back, she knew other people had. Near the end of the chemistry lesson, Damon had looked over at Mikaelson. Seconds later the other boy had been as pale as a ghost… And Bonnie had snapped at Damon after. Surely it wasn't anything weird, was it? Damon was just human.

He could just be an extremely hot, friendly yet intimidating human.

"What's his mum like?"

"She doesn't look old enough to have a son of that age. They look more like brother and sister than mother and son. I don't know about them. She seems the lighter of the two if that makes sense. I don't know how to explain it, but she seems the less oppressive of the two." Alaric looked over his shoulder at Elena. "You seem interested? This boy caught your eye?" He raised his eyebrows and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "But don't worry, I won't tell Jenna."

**Angel of Death**

Damon stumbled through the forest, using the tree trunks to keep himself up right. His vision was blurred and his out stretched wings weighed heavy upon his back. This wasn't like when he collected the souls of those dying.

When he was collecting them, he would be invisible to all but the crow and the dying person. His wings would weigh nothing and would spread from his back painlessly. But gathering souls gave him no energy. He still needed to hunt.

And he would continue to hunt until Elena became his.

But now, because he was hunting, he was visible to all things around him. The harsh beats of animals assaulted his ears as he stumbled through the forest. Streams of blood ran down his back, from where his wings had burst out, and it coated the ripped feathers. This was the true Angel of Death - more demon than angel. His breathing was ragged as he searched for an unsuspecting human. Damon hoped they were old. At least that way they'd lived some of their lives. Tendrils of silver wispy smoke misted from his torn wings and a dense fog moved at his feet.

As he walked, animals scurried from his path; the only ones that stayed were scavengers. Above him crows cawed and beat their wings. They were his; they would direct him and look out for him as he would do the same for him.

The shrill noise they created guided him through his near blindness. The mist in front of his eyes blurred his vision. Damon could only make out shapes. But following the crows noises, led him to the loud beating of a heart. And the heavy footfalls of a man

"Excuse me?" Damon called out, leaning heavily against a large oak tree. He made sure to move his wings and lower them so his body would hide them. "Sir? Can you help me?" He knew the man could hear him; the quickening of his heart told him so.

Damon knew the moment that the man had set his eyes on him. Once the man saw the blood on his body, Damon heard his breathing spike and his heart race even more as adrenaline rushed through him. He could almost hear the man's thoughts; _run? Or help? Run? Or help?_

Thankfully – for Damon – the man walked towards him. "Just stay there. Just stay there, I've got my phone. I'll phone an ambulance…"

"I don't need an ambulance." Damon chuckled darkly, his words gruff and taunting. This was the demon taking over. No longer would Damon be in control. He could visualise the way the man's eyes would widen as silver wispy snakes would float from Damon's mouth with every word he spoke. Damon raised his head, locking his black stare with the man's outline. He knew his eyes would be black, all black, even the whites. "But you might…"

The phone fell from the man's hand.

The autumn leaves crunched beneath it.

"W-what do you mean?" The man stuttered, taking a few steps backwards. Damon matched his foot falls. Stepping forward with every step the man took back. He straightened up continued to look at the outline of the man.

"You know exactly what I mean." The shadows of the silver snakes advanced towards the man. They wrapped around him, disappearing into his body whenever they touched his skin.

The man's heartbeat became sluggish.

His eyes would widen in shock as the shadows laced his nervous system, paralysing him where he stood.

"I heard that with this centuries equipment they can sometimes revive the dead when their heart stops." Damon took the last step towards the man. Droplets of acid began to coat his lips in anticipation of the meal to come. "I do hope they find your body…"

Damon pressed his lips lightly to the man, the acid simultaneously beginning to burn away at the strings to the man's soul. A loud scream tore from both the body and the soul, each of them trying to desperately claw on to the other. With another push of power, the man's soul shield buckled beneath the strain.

Through their connection, Damon felt the man's mind begin to crumble into a coherent mess of terror. His heart began to slow and the soul's struggles began to wane. With one last tug, the soul tore from the man's body.

The body crumpled to the floor beside the phone.

Hearing the thud brought Damon from his reverie. He stopped focussing and bent to pick the phone from the forest floor.

Hearing breathing, the person on the other end began to ask questions again. "Hello? Hello, is there an emergency there?" So the fool had phoned the police. "Can we do anything?"

Damon laughed again and the speaker abruptly quietened. Masking his own voice, Damon roughly pronounced the words. "Do you want to play hide and seek with a body?"

**Hey up! Thanks for all previous reviews and I hope you all continue to review future chapters. Again if you have any more questions I'll answer them as best I can! Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think! :D By the way, during this story, Elijah is NOT related to "Mikaelson" aka Klaus. xx**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Damon stretched out of the bed, wincing as a dull pain shot up his spine. Running a hand through his hair, he groaned lowly. How the fuck had he gotten home? All he could remember was stumbling through the woods…and then the demon within him had taken over.

He rolled over onto his back, stretching out and kicking back the covers as he did. Beneath him something sharp stung his back. Rolling his eyes, Damon reached beneath himself and plucked out a single black feather, now crumpled and more distorted than ever. He flicked it to the floor.

But at least he could see now. That had to be the worst part about giving into the demon. By giving in he behaved like a demon – like his father would have done. He would become stronger but would become impaired with very poor vision. He could only see outlines, and those were the only things he could remember. Blurred images flashed through his mind. Turning his head into the pillow, Damon grunted as he was assaulted by more and more hazy visions.

Fuck! The morning after was worse than the pain of hunting.

But at least he wasn't permanently like that, Damon mused as he shut his eyes and letting himself relax once more. No, that was one good thing about his fucked up life. His mother's angel heritage had allowed him traits from the good and not all from evil. It allowed him minimum control over the demon for times like now – where he could see and think clearly without sucking the life from everything around him. And it also allowed him to control dreams; not to the extent of an Alp, but he had a little of the gift. But most importantly, it allowed Damon a mate. Elena would be able to wash away his demonic side with the brightness of her own soul.

"Damon! You've got an hour to get up! I swear if you aren't out of that bed soon!" His mother's shrill voice cut through the silence. He winced as the sound assaulted his sensitive hearing. Even though he was two thousand years old, Lucerna still insisted on waking him up.

He didn't answer her, just groaned and rolled onto his side. He allowed a few seconds to pass as the room spun around him. Vertigo. Even the supernatural suffered it after a good binge. Slowly he stood up and walked over to the bathroom. On the way, he paused at the mirror to look at himself.

Dried blood covered his back and his hair was stuck up at all angles. But he didn't look as pale… Not exactly human, but at least he had slight colouring.

Moments later, Damon sighed in relief as the hot water from the shower worked on his knotted muscles. The water pooled around his feet, a mixture of brown and red. The water ran down his body, washing away the blood and dirt from last night. The dull ache in his spine and between his shoulder blades spiked again. Turning around, he looked over his shoulder and saw his reflection in the steamy mirror. Two scars, about fifteen centimetres long ran down between his shoulder blades. That had been the area where his wings had been ripped out from his body.

If he couldn't remember anything else, he could remember that. Nothing about hunting was the same as gathering souls to pass onto the afterlife. Soul gathering was a peaceful thing, his body would co-operate and everything would be painless.

Hunting was different. Because of his mixed heritage – a demonic father and an angelic mother – it caused the two sides to battle for dominance. His mother's gift of control would battle to keep his demon under control; causing pain to rip throughout his body whilst his father's curse attempted to break free. When the demonic side violently won, it would cause his wings to burst free of his skin. Splatters of blood would then erupt from his back and coat his body and feathers.

The thick quill of the first feather measured the fifteen centimetres. Every ragged feather after that, would then unfurl slowly from the first; each wing reaching three metres from his body. And once they shrunk back, it would leave two scars.

Turning away from the scars on his back, Damon continued to scrub himself as the shower soothed him. Every now and again he would try and remember what had happened last night. But like every time before it, he could only remember brief outlines.

Minutes later, Damon stepped out of the bathroom and his gaze caught instantly on the bed. Blood covered the torn sheets and more feathers lay spread out and crumpled. Beside the bed was a pile of torn fabrics, amongst them his favourite shirt.

"Fuck."

**Angel of Death**

Within the hour that Lucerna had allowed him, Damon walked down the steps, fixing the collar of his black shirt. It was his second favourite shirt. He'd have to buy another shirt…or a new wardrobe depending on how many times he lost control.

"You seem in a better mood this morning. Yesterday you had to be the grouchiest thing on two legs…" Lucerna said as she sipped at her mug of hot chocolate. Neither of them needed human food or drinks but sometimes something would appeal to them. And his mother had an odd fondness for hot chocolate. Damon shivered at the thought.

"You always said I got crabby when I was hungry," Damon muttered as he pulled out kitchen chair.

In front of him, Lucerna frowned. It marred her beautiful face and her blonde eyebrows knitted together. Caramel coloured hair framed her face in soft curls while her blue eyes watched Damon. Almost every physical trait he had, he had gotten from his father. Except his eyes. Apparently, when he was younger, they used to be blue; the same colour as Lucerna's. But the more souls he hunted, the darker they became. "You should be more careful, you know," she warned as she picked up the nearby newspaper. She flicked it back to the main page. Passing it over the table, Lucerna pointed at the main heading. "You're attracting the attention of the media. The last thing we need is unwanted attention."

Damon skimmed the article quickly, realising it was on the murder of Bella Swan in an alleyway. Had he really done that? He stayed silent as he read on. The girl had been in tacked save from a few broken ribs that had occurred after death. The police had suggested that she had been thrown against the alley wall. The thing which pointed to Damon? Acid had been found coating her lips. But thankfully, the police had no suspects yet.

"You know I can't control it. It would be like asking you not to be seduced by father. He was an Incubus, you couldn't help it." Damon had always known about how he was conceived. His mother had seen no reason to hide it.

It had happened just after Lucifer's fall; when the demons and angels who wouldn't follow God were outcast from Heaven. After they had fallen, Damon's father had seduced Lucerna and taken her to his bed. Neither expected Damon as a result.

Lucerna nodded in sympathy. "I know you can't. But I worry about you." She took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. "I saw you last night when you stumbled through the door. I could barely recognise you. There was torn material trapped in your wings, blood on your back and matted in your feathers, your hair was a mess and you were covered in muck. Imagine if someone had seen you!"

"I can assure you, they'd have been dead by now. And I've found someone who can cure it."

At that, his mother raised an elegantly shaped eyebrow. She looked at him expectantly, not believing what her son was saying.

"My mate," Damon said slowly. "I've found my mate."

Her eyes suddenly widened and her lips parted. "You're joking me? Oh, honey! I'm so pleased for you!" She reached over the table, knocking her hot chocolate to the floor, and grasped him in a tight hug. "I knew you would! So when can I meet her?"

And that was the reason why Damon never told her anything.

**Angel of Death**

"I wish everyone would just move out of the way!" Caroline complained as she pushed past a first year. "I mean, you see all these movies where the younger kids all part like the Red Sea for the seniors! They really need to make it more realistic…"

Both Elena and Caroline stopped at their lockers while the sea of first years continued to move around them. "I know, they really should." The locker opened with a small grating noise. As she opened it, she spotted a large orange flyer. Curiosity over took her and she reached out for it.

On the front was a black cartoon ghoul and small zombies and vampire teeth decorated the border of the paper. In the middle of the sheet in large black writing oozing drips, were the words '_Halloween Night!'_ with the date underneath. It was next Saturday.

"Caroline, have you got one?" She showed her the orange flyer.

"Yeah! We are so totally going!"

"Shopping for costumes this weeken-" Before she could finish, Caroline elbowed her in the ribs and nodded over Elena's shoulder. She mouthed the words "Orgasmic Salvatore" before bouncing out into the sea of students.

Glancing back, Elena flushed when she saw dark eyes looking back at her. Damon smirked at her before shutting his own locker and walking towards her. "Hey." She swallowed nervously after she greeted him. God, after what Tyler had tried most guys wouldn't have touched her with a barge pole. And now Damon (or Orgasmic Salvatore as Caroline had named him) was talking to her…

It must be something in the water.

"Hey," he said casually as he leaned against the locker. The first two buttons of her black shirt were unfastened and showed off the toned, pale flesh of his chest. "Did you get the invite too?"

"Yeah I did, I'm just trying to decide what to wear. Have you got any ideas?"

Damon shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I can't even think of getting covered in fake blood and marring the sight of this God like body," he joked as his hand gestured towards himself. "I was thinking Angel of Death, perhaps?" At this, he chuckled to himself as if enjoying an inside joke.

"Really?" Elena said, shocked. "Normally people just go for the standard vampire and zombie look."

"What can I say? I like to stand out." His eyes brow quirked up. Was that suggestive? Surely not. Damon would have had to have heard about the Tyler rumours by now. There was no way he couldn't have. Mikaelson would have told him straight away.

"If you want to stand out you could always go as a slice of Caroline's growling pizza," Elena suggested, smiling.

Damon chuckled in disbelief. "A pizza? It can't have been that bad."

"She got an A for it but it gave Wayne Rooney a run for his money in the looks department. And everything tastes bad once you've tried Alaric's cooking." She brushed her fringe out of the way just as the bell rang. "It was nice talking to you, Damon." Elena smiled again. "I hope we can talk some more in chemistry?"

"I wouldn't be a gentleman if I said no. Course we can." Was it just her, or did Damon's eyes just become darker? "Where are you going now?"

"Geography. You?"

"Biology. I'll walk you there."

**Angel of Death**

Who the hell was Alaric? Did Elena have a boyfriend already? No… She was pretty, but no… Was Alaric her boyfriend? Or friend with benefits? If this dude was her boyfriend… Or it could just be a friend! Yeah, a friend. That was easier to accept.

Damon only just stifled a growl. If this Alaric was her boyfriend then, for once, Damon would willingly let the demon out. He'd happily rip the boy's soul from his body and take pleasure in hearing it scream as it died before its time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elena giving him an odd look. He shook his head slowly, and smiled at her; anything to cover the raging jealously that she would surely see in his eyes. To calm himself, he focused on the bright energy of her soul. It shone like a beacon of hope, as if there was some way out of the hell that battled within his body.

Almost instantly calmness descended over him. No longer did his wings itch beneath his skin. The hunger for fresh souls that had started once again dulled until it was hardly there at all. A small sigh of relief left his lips.

Once more he looked back at Elena. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulder and she would repeatedly brush her fringe out of her eyes. God, her eyes. Wide and brown, filled with emotion and unable to hide anything she felt. So different from Damon's own that were murky from the souls he'd consumed.

She was beautiful.

And he was a demon.

And this Alaric dude, if he was her boyfriend, would be dead by the end of the week.

**Angel of Death**

Elena said goodbye to Damon at the bottom of the stairs. Was it just her imagination or did his eyes linger on her face? He managed a half-hearted smile in return. As he walked away, Elena saw him roll his shoulders uncomfortably and beneath his shirt…did something just move? And it wasn't muscle either. No way, surely he wasn't hiding anything beneath his shirt? That would just be weird… But it looked uncomfortable…

"You can all come in now." Mrs Miller's voice cut through her thoughts.

In a haze, Elena found her seat, her thoughts immediately going back to Damon. Was there something about him? She'd seen him roll his shoulders far too many times. It was as if he was restless. Or trying to calm something? It had to be more than just a nervous habit. But when he was around her, he never seemed to do it.

At that thought, Elena found herself blushing. _It's got nothing to do with you, you fool. You're probably nothing to him._ But if that was the case, he wouldn't willingly seek her out, would he? If she was nothing then he wouldn't have come over to her locker.

_It's only because of Tyler that you think you're nothing,_ she thought to herself. _If he hadn't said all those things, told you that you were worthless, then you wouldn't think that, would you?_ Elena had tried all this before. She'd tried to erase everything that Tyler had said. If only she could forget everything about that evening. Despite everything she'd tried, she couldn't. Something would always remind of her words, of the knife at her throat and the sound of ripping fabric.

And now Damon's sudden attention was bringing back his words. Why would Damon want her; a broken toy in need of repair and then constant healing onwards? Why? When he could have someone like Caroline who brought no baggage and no skeletons in the closet. No, he wouldn't want Elena. Tyler had been right. She was worthless.

The screeching sound of the wooden door on a thread-bare carpet startled Elena from her pity party. Knob walked through the door, his feet shuffling along the carpet. He gave Elena a quick glance before he sunk into the seat beside her.

A strong smell of smoke came from his white-grey shirt and the smell of tobacco soon joined it as he opened his satchel. He pulled out a few crumpled books and laid them haphazardly along the desk. Again he glanced at Elena, a strange look of pity in his dull brown eyes before his floppy, curly fringe covered his face.

What was Mikaelson planning? At the thought of his name, choppy blonde hair and mocking blue eyes filled Elena's mind. For Knob to give her a look like that it meant something was going to happen.

Elena glared back at him.

And so the rest of the lesson passed by in a similar way. It was mixed with stares, glares, pity looks and a jumble of other mixed up and bizarre gazes. Try as she might, Elena couldn't help but watch the other boy out of the corner of her eye. What was he planning? He was being weirdly nice… He hadn't done anything besides look her way which meant he must have been shitting rainbows to be this nice.

Weird.

Something was definitely up.

Eventually the bell rang and as soon as it did, Knob shot from his seat like the demons of hell were on his heels. With a shrug, Elena began to pack away her things. Strange kid. Maybe there was a fight on that he didn't want to miss?

As she moved to place her last book into her bag, a tattered, roughly torn note fell from the book. The writing was barely legible and scruffy, the letters numerous different sizes and smudged in many places. Grabbing the piece of paper, Elena quickly read over what it said.

_Watch your back. Be with someone at all times._

Again and again she read over the note. The words branded in her mind every time. Oh God. Was it Tyler? Mikaelson? Maybe even Damon? No. It couldn't be Damon. He'd been nothing but nice to her. And she hadn't seen Tyler since the incident, thankfully.

Mikaelson. It had to be. But why would he warn her? Maybe to make her paranoid? But if so, what was he planning? Elena knew from previous events that Mikaelson would never make an empty threat. He'd always carry through what he intended.

Again she read the note, this time turning it over to see if there was anything on the back. As she turned the piece of paper over, a strong smell of tobacco and smoke wafted from it.

Knob.

Knob had warned her about something? But what? If only she could corner him somehow, demand to know the meaning of the note. Yes, she would do that. She had to. She wouldn't allow him to make her paranoid.

**Angel of Death**

Damon watched uneasily as the chemistry class filed into the room. Everyone but Elena was there. What was she doing? Where was she?

As if sensing his distracted thoughts, Bonnie Bennett looked up sharply from her computer. Her dark eyes locked on Damon's immediately and then she looked towards the closed door. She smiled slightly, and gestured to a stack of text books on her desk. "Damon, if you don't mind, could you hand these out?"

Damon knew that it was a distraction, something to keep him busy even if it allowed his mind to wonder. He stood and collected the text books, giving her a quick nod of thanks. Even if it only kept his hands busy, it was better than sitting around and waiting.

He handed the books out slowly, casually testing the soul shields of the students around them. Only a few put up minimum restraint. The rest would easily buckle and shatter with little effort. Didn't their parents teach them about the rituals to strengthen their shields? Or had all that been forgotten centuries ago?

When he gave the last textbook out, a taunting English accent replied with a thanks. It was a snobby thanks, said by someone who thought they were above the others. Looking up, Damon locked eyes with the same teenager who had been taunting Elena yesterday. The same teenager who'd shield had buckled way too easily.

And he had the nerve to use that tone with Damon?

"What you looking at?" The boy demanded, his blue eyes flashing with obvious annoyance.

"Something without a label," Damon said dryly. God, he wasn't in the mood for little shits.

"Are you trying to get big now?"

"Unlike you, I don't have to try and get big. I already am." Damon heard the door open and shut and just by the radiance of the soul he knew it was Elena. Despite how much he wanted to, he didn't turn to look at her. "Now I suggest you stay out of my way. It'll be safer for you." As if to emphasise his words, he allowed the demon inside him a little leash. He felt the whites of his eyes go darker, saw the figure of the boy fade into an ugly outline and knew his eyes were no longer human.

A startled yelp and a "what the fuck, man!" told Damon that it had terrified the boy.

Damon blinked and in the same second his vision refocused and his eyes returned to normal. "Contact lenses." Damon smirked. "Aren't they just wonderful things?"

"Damon Salvatore, I'm quite sure it doesn't take that long to give Klaus his book." Bonnie's voice ended the tense atmosphere between the two.

Just as Mikaelson shot Damon a glare, Damon turned and went back to his seat. Thankfully, he wasn't alone. Elena was sat in her seat beside him, her face pinched in a confused from, a torn piece of paper clutched in her hands.

"What's that?" Damon asked her. The way she jumped told him that she'd been engrossed in the small slip of paper.

"Oh it's nothing," Elena said quickly, scrunching the note up in her fist.

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? To say it's nothing you were studying it awfully hard. I thought you might have a nose bleed. I was about to get my hankie out."

Elena shook her head, a small laugh coming from her. "You're nosy you know that?" She smiled and the light from her soul seemed to glow brighter.

"I wouldn't say nosy; inquisitive or curious is more like it." Damon winked, throwing caution to the wind. He didn't just like, he loved the way she felt around him and the way that she would calm his inner demon just by being beside him. And if the blush that stained her cheeks was anything to go by, she wouldn't mind being closer to him either. "You were late. I started to wonder if I was going to be on my own all lesson."

"Are you missing me already?" Elena joked, rolling her eyes.

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Is it the one I'm hoping for?" Damon knew instantly that she'd slipped up and put her foot in her mouth. Her blush burned brighter than ever, her soul shining white. How could he even think of corrupting her with his darkness?

"Perhaps."

"No definite answer?"

"Let me just say I'm shy in matters of the heart." He grinned at her expression. Obviously she didn't believe him. "Any definite answer from you?"

Elena glanced away quickly and Damon wondered if he'd pushed her too fast and too far. He watched as he worried her bottom lip, two perfect white teeth just visible. "I don't date," she eventually said. "Sorry."

At that, Damon was taken back. "Why though?" There was no pushiness in his tone. If she didn't want to answer then she didn't have to. "You're pretty, witty, and easy to talk to. What more does anyone need?" And slowly, despite Damon's best efforts, a slither of relief managed to worm its way into his heart. If she didn't date, that meant that this Alaric dude had to be a friend…

Elena shrugged and still her eyes didn't meet Damon's. "They know my past. If you knew it, then you wouldn't want to know."

Damon stopped for a few seconds and turned his attention to the white board. What could honestly be so bad? What could have happened to make her think that? What bastard had poisoned her mind?

Turning away from the board, Damon took a deep breath. If she was his mate then she would have to know at some point, right? And it wasn't as if he was going to shout out what he was. But a little hint couldn't hurt, could it? "You might think the same if you knew everything I've ever done. If you knew my past then you wouldn't sit here talking to me so comfortably." _And my present and my future, and what I did last night and how I killed Bella Swan too. _"So why don't we skip the past? Don't they always say to focus on the future?"

Disbelief flowered on Elena's face. At first she stuttered for a bit, her eyes widening in shock. "You aren't going to pry?" She looked almost hopeful.

"Nope." Damon popped the 'p'. "I don't like prying. It suggests I like to gossip, and if I want gossip I'll buy a magazine. Tell me about yourself instead. And in turn I'll tell you what I can about myself."

And so that was how Damon learnt about Elena Gilbert. She'd been orphaned as a young child when her parent's car drove over Wickery Bridge and was submerged in water. Damon had made sure to ask for her parent's names. Because it was soul gathering, he would be able to remember their names if he had been the one to take their souls. Thankfully, another Angel of Death must have collected them. He didn't feel too guilty now.

She also had a younger brother, Jeremy, who was currently at another school after going through problems (she didn't expand on these and Damon didn't ask) and had settled in ok. For now she lived with her Aunt Jenna and boyfriend, and soon to be fiancé if Elena had anything to do about it, Alaric. _So that's where Alaric fits in_, Damon had thought, relief making him sag at little on his stool.

"So, go on, you know about my family life. Now you've got up hold your side of the bargain."

And so Damon told her everything he could, missing out vital parts of course.

He began by saying his parents had split up when he was young and that he'd never known his father. _He was a bastard anyways, _Damon thought after. Unlike Elena, he had no siblings that he knew of unless his mother had given them up for adoption (highly unlikely. Imagine raising a demon or angel in a human household?) or his father had chosen to sow his wild oats elsewhere. Damon told her about Italy, the country where Lucerna and he had resided for the last fifty years, but he changed the details. Instead he said that he had been born there and had moved to Virginia as both Lucerna and he wished for a change of scenery. The latter part was partially true.

"Elena! Damon! Please, stop flirting and pay attention!" Bonnie snapped without even turning around. "Now, Elena, what's the name of the ester on the board?"

Damon gave her a few seconds, and when she paused, he whispered, "Propyl-ethanoate." Elena shot him a grateful look before answering.

"And Damon, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Elena the answer," Bonnie said impatiently, sighing as she spoke. God what was that woman? He'd barely whispered it to Elena, how could Bonnie have heard it from across the class? And she'd known early when Damon had scared Mikaelson…

Again Damon got the odd thought that Bonnie Bennett knew what he was. To know what Damon was, would mean that she was more than just a simple chemistry teacher of a small high school. Damon frowned at the thought. It wasn't often he met another supernatural creature. Perhaps Lucerna would know?

**Angel of Death**

"Matt still hasn't been at school has he?" Caroline asked as they both walked home from their daily after school coffee in Starbucks. Once again, Caroline had attempted (and failed) to flirt with Elijah. "Have you heard anything from him?"

Elena shook her head. "No, sorry. He said the same thing to me as he did to you. That he was spending some time with this person that he met. Matt never mentioned any names though. Why do you want him?"

"It's for this stupid Physical Education thing. They've paired us up together and we have to work out with each other. Wait! Oh Lord, that sounds so bad!" Caroline cringed and shook her hands. "I mean, he's nice enough. Just not me, you know what I mean?"

They both laughed lightly, the cool autumn breeze blowing their hair back. Their footsteps crunched in the leaves as they walked by. "I know what you mean. Are you still up for shopping this Saturday 'cause you bounded off when I was asking you."

"I only did that because Orgasmic Salvatore was totally eyeing you up! And do you think I'm going to pass up an opportunity for shopping?" Caroline put her hand on her chest and used a fake, girly voice. "If you think that, girlfriend, then you don't know me!" She clicked her fingers in front of her face.

They stopped outside Caroline's house. "Cool. I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday?"

"Nine? I want a lie in! Ten?"

"Yeah, I'll pick you up then."

After saying good byes and rearranging other little things, Elena continued the short walk home after plugging in her earphones to her iPod. Olly Murs "Troublemaker" was soon booming out of her earphones.

As she walked, Elena found herself taking a slightly longer route home. At least this way, the paths would be free of leaves.

Once the song had finished, she looked down at her iPod to change song, still walking as she scrolled through them. When she'd chosen one, she looked up and gulped.

There in the garden of a very large, old looking house, was Damon Salvatore - shirtless, in jeans that hung low on his hips, mowing the lawn. His muscles flexed with every push of the lawn mower, his abs moving with every breath he took. Damon turned the lawnmower around at the top of the garden so his back was to Elena.

Only when he moved out of the shadows cast by the house, did Elena see what decorated his back. Two scars, each thin yet long lay between his shoulder blades. They were a dull red, nearly healed but they still looked sore. Oh good Lord! What had happened to him?

Seeing the scars cast her memory back to when she had seen him walk away after taking her to class. He'd been rolling his shoulders and something had moved under his shirt. And now the scars. Something had been there that wasn't there now. Or was it still there, and she just couldn't see it?

**Hey up! Thanks for all your reviews and I hope you still continue to enjoy the story! As I've said before, please say if anything has you confused. As mentioned in this chapter, Damon says he has no siblings (that he knows of) but Stefan will make an appearance in the story…but I'm not totally sure when haha. **

** Hope you all liked it when Damon woke up. I was thinking, well, no one likes to wake up on a morning, right? And his mother's name Lucerna means light in Latin. I made his relationship with his mum a good one because in the TV programme, he never looked to get on well with his father. So he had to have one nice parent? **

** And an Incubus (Damon's father) is a male demon who has sexual intercourse with women after seducing them. Needs sexual contact to survive. Its female counterpart is a Succubus. **

**An Alp is a demon that can control dreams and can influence the nightmares that someone will have. Can make nightmares vivid enough, and realistic enough, that a person's heart is placed under stress and they usually suffer heart attacks.**

**Please review! They make me happy and give me motivation! Any thoughts on Bonnie? And what do you think that Mikaelson and his gang are planning? Your thoughts are always welcome! :D xx**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

After saying good night to both Alaric and Jenna, Elena made her way to her bedroom, grabbing the home phone as she went. Once showered and changed into a tank top and shorts, she dialled the familiar number. After a couple of rings, a rough voice, harsh with exhaustion, picked up the phone.

"Hello? Elena?"

"Jeremy! Oh, it's so good to hear you! How are you?"

Elena heard the line crackle as Jeremy walked around the room. The signal in the boarding school was poor at best and it wouldn't be surprising if their conversation was suddenly cut short. "I'm fine and it's good to hear from you too. It's been what? Two days?" he joked, and it was good to hear him laugh. He hadn't laughed for so long since Jenna had finally told him the real way his parent's had died. "And you rang just as I was trying to find my phone, so thanks. You made that task so much easier."

"I'm glad I could help. Why, were you expecting a call from someone?" Her tone was light but her interest showed through easily. On the other end of the line, Elena could almost hear Jeremy's eye roll.

"Not tonight, no. It's my turn to phone her."

"Her?"

"Yeah. Ana. The girl I told you about, roughly a fortnight ago?"

"Oh yeah, tell her hey from me. And I better let you go. I don't want her being disappointed. Call me back when you're free?"

"Don't worry, I will do. There's a curry night with the lads tomorrow so Sunday will be hangover day. So I'll call you Monday?"

"Yeah ok. See you sometime, Jeremy."

"See you, Elena."

The line disconnected and Elena placed the phone down with a sigh. So Jeremy was serious about this Ana girl. She didn't know how to feel about that. She knew it would come eventually; that Jeremy would grow up, move on and find someone else to rely on. But it hurt. It hurt to know that she was being pushed aside, his own sister, for someone else.

Sighing, Elena sunk down onto her bed, crossing her legs beneath her. But it was bound to happen. Jeremy wouldn't need her all the time. He would move on… At that thought, Elena laid down on her bed, pulling the covers over her body and up under her chin.

Reaching over to the bed side table, she grabbed her iPod and the tangle of ear phones that followed. After a few frustrated seconds of unknotting the wires (how did they get so tangled?) she scrolled through the list of songs until she found the heavy rap music that Jeremy had bought her before she left. Apparently the music was so loud, the beats so heavy, that it was impossible to think of anything else. Pressing play, Elena increased the volume and snuggled in the cover.

And Jeremy was right. She couldn't think of anything else…

The next time Elena opened her eyes, she knew she was dreaming. It was the same dream that assaulted her most nights. The dark, dingy alleyway was all too familiar; the colours of the graffiti mocked her. Its bright colours were a contrast of what was to happen.

She became aware of the warm, hard grip on her upper arms and the feeling of being pushed backwards.

It had started out as an ordinary walk home from school. Elena was on her own, Caroline was at cheer leading practice, so she'd stupidly said yes when Tyler asked her if she wanted to join him.

A memory of reality, the dream followed everything through Elena's eyes. Tyler, her friend whom she knew nothing about, morphed before her eyes. He still looked the same; brown hair, brown eyes, brawny build but he'd been replaced with a monster. This wasn't her friend…

The tall buildings, blackened with pollution looked down at them with ignorance. The rain water collected in large puddles, sloshing over her shoes and splashing up Elena's jeans. She looked away from the rain water sharply; she couldn't afford a lapse in control.

But as she met Tyler's eyes, clouded with envy and darkened in rage, Elena wished she was still looking at the puddles. One of his hands came to rest on her chest, pinning her against the wall. The other reached into his jacket, bringing with it a standard 12" kitchen knife.

"I'll fucking kill you, Eleanor." The nickname fell from his lips easily, distorting every memory that included that name. Tyler moved the knife, slicing away at her jacket. The sound of the tearing jacket would normally startle Elena from her daze and she would begin to fight back. For some reason, this time she couldn't.

Somewhere in her conscious state of mind she knew this was wrong. Her heart raced and her body was slick from sweat. It shouldn't be like this. But she was trapped in the hallways of her own mind with her memories lurking to try and seek her out. She tossed and turned in bed, trying to fight her imaginary foe.

Around her the dream world began to shimmer and distort. And then it stopped. Tyler continued what he was doing and Elena's mind screamed at him to stop. Again and again scraps of fabric hit the floor.

"I'll fucking kill you, you stupid bitch!" He raised the knife, the sadistic smirk of its blade glinting wickedly in the light. But as Tyler began to bring the knife down, everything happened in slow motion.

A pale hand shot out and grabbed Tyler's wrist, stopping the knife's terrifying descent. A loud snarl ripped from the creature. It wasn't even human. Its huge wings, torn and dripping with blood spanned the width of the alleyway. A fog whirled around its feet, and Elena could swear she could hear screams coming from the deep blanket of smoke. The creature had a pale human body and its wings extended from two slits in the shoulder blades and the remains of a tattered navy shirt hung in scraps around its body and in the feathers of its wings. Ghostly silver serpents escaped from the tips of its feathers and trailed over Tyler's body.

The tips of the creature's feathers brushed her face, quivered and then shied away from her as if unwilling to touch her. She watched with wide eyes and the creature's head, moved closer to Tyler's. Elena could see nothing but the back of the creature and its large wings covered most of what it was doing. But it didn't cover the loud screams.

Loud, hair raising screams sounded around the alleyway, startling Elena and making her stumble back a few steps. From this new angle she saw the sparkling mist that came from Tyler's mouth and was absorbed by the stranger. Tyler's body became sluggish and his thrashing movements began to slow.

Until he didn't move at all.

The creature cast his body away and it collided with the alley walls. The sounds of cracking bones made bile rise in Elena's throat. She stumbled back once more, shaking her head in disbelief.

This thing, this thing that was not human, had saved her. Even if it was just a dream. But it had killed Tyler…

As if realising she was just there, the creature turned to look at her, its head cocked to one side. Two large black eyes, no whites left at all, turned to face her. And Elena could do nothing but scream.

She woke abruptly in bed, pushing her hair from her face and gasping for breath. The dream had changed. Instead of continuing like it usually did, it had changed. Normally Tyer would go onto to call her names, tell her that she was worthless and nobody wanted her. But now someone else had joined the dream. They'd stopped Tyler and for that she would be forever grateful. But…those eyes… Shoving the covers away from her, she reached hastily for the bedside lamp. Switching it on, she glanced warily around the room. Biting her lip in frustration, she felt tears prickle in her eyes.

Those eyes, those soulless, depthless eyes, had been set in Damon Salvatore's face.

**Angel of Death**

Damon fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. Across the room Lucerna picked up the TV remote and paused it.

"What's wrong with you? You've been moving around for the past half an hour," she said, her eyes never leaving Damon. They drifted down his body, checking for any sign of distress. When she found no sign of injury, she spoke again. "Is it your wings again?" Sympathy lined her words.

Damon shook his head and glanced away. He took a deep breath before attempting to sooth the restless ache in his chest. It felt like icy claws were clenching around his insides and were slowly spreading through his entire body. "No, it's not them." A shudder racked his body. "It's Elena."

Lucerna looked alarmed. "She's not in any harm is she?"

"No, it's her dreams. There's…there's something in them." Damon stood abruptly and began pacing. "She's not settled. I don't know what it is. I've never felt it before." He stopped and ran a hand through his raven black hair. There was one thing he could do. He'd done it for her centuries ago… But controlling someone's dreams was risky. It could so easily spin out of control, accidently revealing Damon's true form in the process…

"You're not thinking of controlling her dreams, are you?" Lucerna's voice was stern for once.

"What else can I do?" Damon snapped. He hadn't meant to. But he couldn't leave Elena this way. If he didn't do anything then neither of them would get any sleep.

"It's too dangerous. What if you become the Angel of Death? She doesn't know you yet; you could scare her away for good."

Damon growled loudly, the sound vibrating for his chest. He knew Lucerna was right. But he couldn't remain like this, feeling the need to claw open his own chest to try and alleviate the icy feeling. He looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. And another. And another.

And it did fuck all to soothe his nerves.

"I have to," Damon muttered after a while. "You don't know what it's like to have this icy feeling in your chest. I'll try and control it better than I did with Rose."

He turned from Lucerna and made his way to the basement. Or to anyone else visiting, it would be introduced as the "basement". It was anything but. Three long wooden shelves ran along one wall, each shelf stacked with assorted pots, herbs, candles and matches. On the opposite wall there was a large fire place and scorched logs still lay waiting to be lit. A naked bulb hung down from the ceiling on a white wire and it flickered ominously. The bare brick walls were a dusty red and a few spiders clung to the corners with thick webs.

Damon picked out the small clay pot that contained lavender. An herb which aided sleeping but also helped the transition into someone else's dream. Next he picked up a small Jasmine flower and placed it in an ornate dish, crushing it into a fine powder with the quill of a feather. He mixed the two together quickly. Leaving the small dish on the shelf, Damon walked quickly over to the fireplace.

With every step he took, the icy feeling in his chest began to recede. Surely that meant he was doing the right thing? Striking the match against the rough red brick, Damon cast in into the logs. He did this with matches, making sure some of them started to burn and singe the logs. A few minutes passed and soon the lazy flames began to move through the logs, casting sparks out towards Damon's feet.

Even with the heat of the fire, he still felt cold.

Damon picked up the small dish of lavender and crushed jasmine, and ran his fingers through the fine mix. Yes, hopefully this should do. He closed his eyes and picked up a pinch of the powder between his forefinger and thumb before sprinkling it over the fire.

He heard the fire crackle and hiss as it accepted the powder. Damon continued to sprinkle the powder over the fire. Next he began to picture Elena; her long brown hair that cascaded around her face, her large innocent eyes filled with joy when both she and Damon spoke, her pale skin and her rosy lips. He felt the fire attempt to lick at his hand. The flames made a heated sweat break out across his palm and for a moment he didn't think it was going to work-

Instead of seeing, Damon sensed the room around him shiver and shift.

Opening his eyes, Damon found himself in alleyway and knew immediately that the dream controlling had worked. The alleyway had a slight smell of dead rodents but it would be impossible for a human to sense. Graffiti, pale because of age, adorned the walls of the alley.

The sound of a scuffle caught Damon's attention. Curious, he followed the sound. The alleyway began to darken, the high walls casting shadows that lurked and danced with every step Damon took.

He saw the boy first. He was tall, not as tall as Damon, but tall nonetheless. The boy had dull brown hair and his eyes were the same mundane colour. He was nothing special.

Until Damon saw the woman he had pinned against the wall.

Elena. She was a year younger but her gorgeous brown eyes were widened with shock, fear and then terror. Her coat was hanging in scraps around her shoulders, and her hair was wild and knotted.

A snarl tore from Damon, the angel inside him distraught at seeing his own mate in such peril. Even if it was just a dream. How could the bastard even think of doing that? Damon walked forward, purposely stepping lightly to avoid puddles and unnecessary noise.

When Damon saw the knife in the boy's hand, he lost all control-

Damon stumbled back from the fireplace, the small dish falling to the floor. It smashed and pieces of clay and powder coated the floor at his feet. Oh God, he'd lost control! It had happened before. And now it had happened again!

He fell to his knees in front of the raging fire, peering into the flames to see the rest of the dream continue. Damon's body was still in the dream, but now he had no control over what happened. He saw himself as he grabbed the boy's hand. And he saw the way he tore the boy's soul from his body and he could hear as every string that attached the soul to the body frayed and snapped. He saw himself turn to face Elena…

And he heard her scream.

The flames roared high in the fireplace, the logs instantly turning to ash with the force of their power. Heat was thrown out from the fire, all-consuming and singeing the edges of Damon's clothing. The brinks surrounding the fireplace cracked and dust was spat from the newly formed cracks. And then the fire dyed down. Only embers were left in the ash.

Elena had woken from her dream.

She'd woken, screaming, when Damon had turned to face her. Oh God, he'd scared her more than the attempted rape and murder had. Damon felt his heart clench and anguished keen left his parted lips. In a fit of disbelieving rage, Damon grabbed one of the logs that lay beside the fire. He threw it against the way, watching with an intense vicious glee as it smashed against the wall. Splinters of wood cascaded down the bricks, only to pool on the floor.

"You lost control," said a calm voice. Lucerna's voice lacked any sort of "I told you so" but instead it was laced with pity. Damon looked up, his hair falling in his eyes, to see her standing at the bottom of the basement steps.

"If all you're going to do is remind me, then leave. I don't need you to silently judge me."

She sighed and stepped closer to Damon. "You know I don't think of you any different. You're young. We've all got to make our mistakes."

Damon looked at her, suddenly feeling small beneath her wise gaze. His gaze then shifted to the cracked pot dish and the spilt powder. He wet his lips before he began. "She saw me."

"How?"

"As the Angel of Death. She saw me and she screamed. Elena screamed more when she saw me then what she did when he was touching her." Again his heart clenched. The icy claws inside his chest had disappeared, but he would have taken them any day over the aching, gut wrenching feeling in his heart. After seeing him like that, Elena would never accept him. It would end like it did for Rose… A tragedy…

Lucerna said nothing. Instead she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and for the first time in centuries he let her. "It will be fine, Damon. It won't be like last time. Trust me, I know this. Don't ask me how, but I do."

**Angel of Death**

Elena sat in front of the computer screen. Google was opened up but she found herself staring at the multi-coloured logo, not sure whether she wanted to type anything in. For once her dream had stayed with her – or more to the point, 'Damon' had stayed with her. Could it be a sign that there was something else? Or was it simply an overactive imagination?

Either way, it couldn't hurt to look. It would give her something to occupy her mind and a reason to forget the dream.

Taking a deep breath, Elena clicked the search engine and began to type. _Angel. _Angel's had wings… At least the stereotypical ones did… Over a billion pages and links were displayed and she almost groaned in frustration. But she began scrolling through them.

Most of the links advertised movies, brands, bands and books…but nothing on real angels. Or even if they existed. Elena looked at the screen for so long her eyes began to water and she had to dim the brightness of the screen.

Sighing, she was about to close down the internet when she saw a promising site – Angel and Demons A-Z. A little seed of hope was planted in her mind and before she could squash it, she clicked on the link.

When the site opened it look promising. The site had a plain beige background and the writing was in black and a standard font. A few images lined the sides but the main text was the names of different angels and demons and beside that a short summary of what they were with a hyperlink for more information.

Elena scrolled through the list, reading the short summaries that contained a description of the creature. Most of the angels and demons were shown to be myths; things thought up to entertain children or to make them behave. But a few seemed to have depth to them.

She saw one that looked promising. Its name was an Alp, and it was able to control dreams. It would explain why Damon would suddenly appear in hers… But he could just be a human…one who Elena was spending far too much time thinking about. Shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts, she clicked on the hyperlink beneath the word Alp.

An Alp (German for nightmare) could appear as anything from human to a ghostly horse rider to a real night horror such as a werewolf, and everything in between. It had no true form which made it hard to track. The alp could only be wounded when in the form of a human and could navigate through the smallest of passageways to reach its victims.

Which would mean Damon would have had to be in the room with her… And when she woke she couldn't remember seeing any shadows moving, or anything in the room…

Elena clicked the back button and continued to scroll through the list until one name stood out amongst the rest. It brought her back to when Damon and Elena were discussing the Halloween costumes. He'd said, and chuckled at his own words, that he was going to go as the Angel of Death.

She clicked on the link about the Angel of Death, her curiosity rising once again.

The page had the same style and colour of text, and there were a few pictures that lined the right hand side. Elena began to read and brought the computer screen closer to her.

The Angel of Death was the creature that gathered the souls of the dead to pass them onto the afterlife. It usually had a familiar, a type of ghostly animal, which would lead it to the dying. Beside this text was the image of a newspaper showing that a black cat had been seen walking the hallways of a hospital and it would sit on the beds of those who were going to die. Within an hour of the cat sitting beside them, the person on the bed would be dead.

Elena shivered at the thought. She continued to read.

It had two forms; one human, the other the true Angel of Death. And when it wasn't gathering souls, it would hunt them and feed on them. No one knew whether it was a demon or an angel and it generally had a mixed heritage that would allow it to peacefully take the soul (soul gathering) or to forcibly take the soul (soul hunting).

That was the only writing on the Angel of Death. There was little known about it, other than what people had proclaimed to see after near death experiences. They had apparently seen a black winged human whose wings were torn but pristine who had gently coaxed them towards death…

But it was the pictures that intrigued Elena the most. One was of a man and he had his back to the artist. The painting was from the 15th century and showed two thin scars between the shoulder blades. But could it just be a figment of imagination? Just like her own thoughts?

The next picture attempted to erase all doubts in her mind. It had been taken on a foggy day but the figure could be easily distinguished. In his hands he clutched a woman's lifeless body, and thin silver stream was coming from the woman's mouth and going straight into the Angle of Death. Two huge black wings, tattered with fabric clinging to the torn feathers, spread out behind it, shielding its body and face from the camera.

It looked exactly the same as Damon Salvatore had in her dream.

And the more Elena thought, the more she found Damon's actions and words coming back to her. He would roll his shoulders continuously, as if something itched beneath his skin. Wings, perhaps? And she had seen the scars between his shoulder blades. Perhaps those were where his wings extended from? She'd seen the way Mikaelson had paled when Damon had looked his way. Had he taken some of his soul then? And Damon's own words began to run through her mind.

_"You might think the same if you knew everything I've ever done. If you knew my past then you wouldn't sit here talking to me so comfortably."_

Could Damon really be an Angel of Death?

Elena thought he could be. Everything seemed to add up and point in that direction. Yet she found herself laughing hysterically, not believing that a handsome boy could truly be something of the supernatural.

Maybe the dream had just gone to her head? Or maybe Tyler had been right.

Maybe she was just fucked up.

**Hey up! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you review (they motivate me!) Thanks for all your previous reviews! So now you know Elena's background and what Mikaelson keeps reminding her of. Any thoughts on Damon interrupting her dreams? Do you think he got what he deserved? And what about Elena's reaction to her own thoughts on Damon's supernatural abilities? And what about the cat that could predict people's deaths? It's a true story!**

** I'd love to know your thoughts and where you think the story will go!**

** And if anyone wants the link to the demon page I'm currently using, just say so in your review and I'll message it to you. it might help you understand the supernatural element a bit more though I will try and explain it all as best as I can.**

** Again, thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy it! **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

When Saturday came around, Elena had all but forgotten about the dream. Those types of dreams, where Tyler was included, came all too often to really frighten her for more than just an hour. And the Damon part? Elena had managed to persuade herself it was an overactive imagination due to the fact that he was the only guy – besides Matt – to pay her any type of attention other than the annoying sort.

And suddenly, because Damon Salvatore was being nice, Elena was determined to make him something other than human. An hour after turning the computer off, Elena had laughed at herself. Damon Salvatore was only human - just a normal, though incredibly good looking, teenage boy. She'd never felt so stupid in her life. It got so bad that she turned the computer on to delete her search history. If there was no evidence of it, she could make herself believe that the whole foolish episode had been a dream…

"Elena? Earth to Elena!" Jenna's voice startled Elena from her reverie and milk sloshed over the side of her cereal bowl. "Alaric's asked you to pass the milk twice."

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly nine o'clock. She really needed to get a move on if she was to pick Caroline up at ten. "Sorry, I was in a world of my own."

Both Alaric and Jenna smiled at each other before Alaric answered. "It's alright. It happens to the best of us. So what are you plans for today?"

Elena swallowed a spoon full of cereal. "Caroline and I are going shopping for costumes. You know, for the Halloween party I told you about yesterday."

"Have you got any ideas?" Jenna asked.

Elena shook her head as she scooped the last of her cereal onto her fork. "None. I'll just see what there is. I don't want anything common."

Alaric grinned and Elena found herself worrying. What was he grinning about? "So no vampires? Zombies? Werewolf? Is there any reason you want to stand out?"

She shot him a glare across the table, aware that Jenna was still watching them interact. "No, there isn't a reason I want to stand out," she said, cocking her head to one side with an eyebrow raised.

"I was just wondering if anyone had caught your eye, that's all." Alaric grinned again and his eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Has anyone?" Jenna said with a small smile on her lips.

Elena could practically read her aunt's thoughts. She knew that Jenna thought it was peculiar that she'd all of a sudden stopped paying any attention to any of the male population. But instead of building her aunt's hopes up, Elena shook her head. "No, no one's caught my eye."

Across the table, Alaric raised his eyebrows and they almost met his slightly receding hair line. "Are you sure on that?"

Before he could say any more, or give away any more details about Damon, Elena kicked him under the table. Or at least tried to…

"Ow, just stubbed my toe," she complained as the table shook.

"Serves you right." Alaric smirked as he finished his bowl of cereal.

**Angel of Death**

"It's been so long since I've been on a shopping trip!" Caroline exclaimed as they stepped out of Elena's Mini Convertible. "I mean, everything in my wardrobe is like, two month old! Two month old!"

"Well, we're going on one now." Elena shut the door of the car and locked it. "And we're gonna splash the cash."

"And you need new underwear!"

"Why?"

"You can't seduce Orgasmic Salvatore in just a t-shirt bra and briefs."

**Angel of Death**

The walk to the costume shop didn't take long. The streets were surprisingly quiet and there wasn't much traffic on the roads. Caroline's light chatter filled the empty streets. It was nice to be able to speak to Caroline again, about anything and nothing. Their banter was filled with things that meant nothing but were humorous all the same.

Eventually they reached the costume shop. The outside was done in black and there were stereotypical Halloween costumes hanging in the shop window. Small grey pumpkins were stuck to the glass and the name of the shop was done to resemble something written in blood. When they opened the door, a loud cackling laugh filled the store.

Behind the counter was a short woman with wild ginger hair tamed into two pigtails with spider hair bobbles. She greeted the two of them with a large smile and an obvious enthusiasm for the spooky time of year. She motioned for them to have a look around and told them to call for her if they needed anything before she disappeared into the back of the shop.

The shop was larger than it looked from the outside. There were rows up rows of various costumes: zombies, vampires, witches, bloodied school girls and much to Elena's surprise, there was an Angel of Death. Immediately Caroline broke away from her to search for her own costume.

Instead of standing around the door step, Elena headed in the opposite direction to Caroline, knowing that they would eventually meet up somewhere in the shop. She browsed through the costumes before taking one from the rack. It was a white nurse costume with splatters of blood up the front. It came with a small nurse hat. All she needed now were knee high white boots and the outfit would be complete.

Through the racks of costumes, Elena could just make out Caroline's blonde curly hair. In her hand was a dark, pointy witches hat that had strips of purple material clinging to it. Moving through the shop, Elena made her way towards the neon sign that read "changing rooms".

Picking the changing room furthest down the narrow corridor, she hooked the costume up and pulled the thick, heavy red curtain across. As she stripped from her clothes, she found that she watched herself in the mirror. Her normally plain black underwear suddenly looked worn and tatty and Caroline's words of buying new underwear ran through Elena's mind. A new set couldn't hurt, could it? And maybe Damon would like it?

Her eyes widened at the thought. What about Damon? Why had he suddenly entered her mind, and in that context too? Elena swallowed thickly and shook her head. After Tyler's attempt at rape and murder, all thoughts of a romantic relationship had flown from Elena's mind…and now? Now she was thinking about sex with a guy she barely knew.

Despite how much she tried to rid herself of the thoughts, Elena began to look at her own body. Her breasts were average size and her narrow waist only came out a little way. Would Damon like those? Or did he prefer other attributes on a woman's body? Today she'd worn a little more make-up as she didn't look as pale as normal. Since Tyler's attempts, she'd stopped trying to impress anyone and had tried to blend into the background more and more. But maybe now was a good time to start getting into the sun? To start bronzing her skin and making a bit more effort?

And it wasn't because of Damon. It so totally was not because of him.

She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and distracted herself by changing into the nurse costume. A few moments of struggling with stiff buttons and zips, and she was finally changed into the costume. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as the white of the costume. Definitely in need of some sun. Or fake tan at the very least. She span around in front of the dusty old mirror. The outfit clung to her slim curves and the neckline plunged low to show a hint of her cleavage. Hmm, a necklace of some sort would be needed. Cocking her head to one side, Elena did something she'd never done before. Putting her hands on each side of her breast, she pushed them in and out. Instantly the costume seemed to look better. So maybe Caroline had been right? A nice, fancy push up bra would be great…

This was so totally not because of Damon Salvatore.

Before she could have another thought about Damon Salvatore, Elena stepped out of the changing rooms. "Caroline?" she called out, wanting her friend's opinion. "Caroline?" She stepped out of the changing room and peered around the corner of the shop. Surely Caroline couldn't have gone far? "Caroline? If you're ignoring me!"

"I can go get her, if you want."

Elena's eyes widened at the sound of his voice. She found herself blushing at her thoughts in the changing room and whirled around quickly, hoping that he would take the blush for surprise and not something else.

Damon Salvatore stood in front of her, in the costume he had spoken of. The stereotypical Angel of Death. He wore a large cloak and the hood fell over his head and hid his face in the shadows. In his hands was a large staff with its head carved into a silver point. Small wings, nothing like the ones in her dreams, spread from his back.

"Damon!" As she turned, she could have sworn his eyes had trailed over the length of her body, stopping at the small amount of cleavage she had showing. Maybe he did like what he saw? Mentally, Elena slapped herself for thinking that way. Like Tyler had said, why would he want her? "What are you doing here?"

He pulled back the hood, revealing his dark eyes and Elena couldn't help but be brought back to her dream. Those dark eyes had their whites but they matched the colour and intensity of those in her dream. But dark circles had collected under his eyes. Hadn't he been sleeping? Damon raised an eyebrow at your obvious inspection but didn't comment. "Shopping; the same reason you're here?"

Elena nodded her head. A look of relief passed over Damon's face. But why? "Have you seen Caroline? I need her opinion."

"Isn't mine good enough?" Damon joked, and for a moment the whites of his eyes darkened. Darkened? It had to be the lighting…

"If it's a good one, then maybe." Elena winked and found herself flirting for the first time in months.

Damon's eyebrows raised in a quick flash. "Well, that depends," he said dryly. "What are you wearing on your feet?"

"White knee high boots. With a heel."

"Very nice," Damon murmured with emphasis on the "very". "I won't be very happy if you changed it for another costume." Elena felt heat flood her cheeks but she couldn't look away from him. As she blushed, she watched as the shadows around his eyes visibly lightened until they had all but disappeared completely. It must be the lighting… Dark shadows don't just disappear and someone's eyes don't just darken. "Did you say you wanted Caroline?"

"Yeah, you haven't seen her have you?"

He nodded his head. "Just give me a sec to change. She's in the witch section. I'll go get her for you."

Elena nodded her thanks and went to stand inside her own changing room. Across the narrow corridor she heard the rustle of bags and then the harsh scraping noise as the curtain was yanked back. Damon was a speed freak when it came to taking clothes on an off… Once again Elena found her thoughts going in a totally different direction…

Not that she particularly minded. On this one time, she allowed her own little fantasies to play out. When he'd gone back into the changing rooms, Damon would have taken the large, body covering, cloak off. Underneath he would have worn only black underwear…at least in her mind he did… His broad shoulders would now be shown and the muscles that rippled underneath his usual black shirts would now be on show-

"Elena! Orgasmic Salvatore said you called for me?" Caroline's voice cut through Elena's fantasy and she scowled at herself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself before pulling back the curtain. Glancing over Caroline's shoulder, she looked down the corridor to see if Damon was there. He wasn't. And then there was the sharp cackle that signalled the door was being opened. "Wow! Jesus, woman! You look amazing! If I swung that way I'd have you against the wall right this minute!"

**Angel of Death**

Elena hadn't run from him. That had to be a good sign, right? If she truly believed he was the Angel of Death, then she would have run… So, yeah, that was a good sign…

But she'd been in that costume: that God forsaken costume that had threatened to show every inch of her delicious skin… Her hair, curled for the day, had spilled over one shoulder, one stray lock straying between her breasts, pulling his gaze directly to them. And her legs! Toned and slim: perfect in every way. And then Elena had caught him looking…and she'd blushed.

The red colour that had flowered on her cheeks intensified the call of her soul like it always did. But dressed like that, in such an appealing way threatened to unravel the small amount of control that Damon had. His angel heritage had screamed at him to claim his mate, to mark Elena has his… Damon had felt his eyes flicker, had seen her image begin to fuzz, and had known that he was losing control. He might be centuries old, but he still had the same hormones as any teenage guy…

And that was his mate, Elena, standing there in nothing but a flimsy, blood stained nurses outfit… Damon had never been so glad for the cloak of his costume.

As he made his way back to the car – a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro – Damon was grinning. For once he thanked his demon heritage that allowed him more acute senses. He hadn't failed to hear Caroline's "Orgasmic Salvatore". If one of them liked him, didn't that mean that there was a good chance of Elena liking him too?

He hadn't been fooled, and he'd seen the glances both girls had been giving him. Up until now, Damon had thought that it was merely human instinct reacting to danger. The need to keep predators in their sight. But maybe it was more…Elena hadn't run from him today, so that had to be something…

When he arrived home, Damon immediately knew something was wrong. The whole atmosphere around the house was different. Parking the car up, Damon stepped out of it hesitantly. The outside of the house looked the same. The grass hadn't been trampled, the roof wasn't caving in and the front door was still on its hinges. So that meant that something was wrong with Lucerna. Had she seen a spider or something?

Walking up the driveway, Damon was tempted to call out his mother's name. But wouldn't that just alert anyone who was there? Looking around the door, Damon stepped through and shut it with a soft click. The house was silent. The lights were off; there were no need when both occupants could see clearly. Damon couldn't hear anything and normally he could hear everything in the house.

"Lucerna?"

Seeing the living room door open, Damon made his way towards it. When he opened the door, he saw his mother sitting in one of the high backed chairs – a document in her hand. When she heard his call, she turned to face Damon. Her face was flowered with disappointment. "Damon." Was all she said.

When she made no move to speak again, Damon walked further into the room. He took the seat opposite her, and only now could he see the small brilliantly blinding wings that protruded from two slits in the back of her blouse. For Lucerna to lose control… Something had to be wrong. The last time she'd ever been like that was when Damon had lost control and killed one of their human relatives; Zach Salvatore.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat, ready to move quickly if the situation needed it.

She shook her head and sighed. Disappointed. The blonde curls in her hair bounced as she passed Damon the documents in her hand. "You need to learn to restrain yourself. Damon, you can't continue like this. People are getting suspicious – not of us, but they think that these are workings of a serial killer. And they've all started since we arrived. If you're not careful they will think we're suspects."

He opened the documents and carefully caught the photo that dropped out. Damon only just managed to keep his expression neutral. Plain brown hair and boring brown hair stared back at Damon. Upon seeing the face Damon barely supressed the growl that began to rise in his chest. It was the same boy from Elena's dream.

And, apparently, the boy was now dead.

Damon began to read through the report. The boy – Tyler Lockwood – had been found in the same alleyway as the one in Elena's dream. Beside the writing a coloured photo of the alleyway was attached. Damon could have recognised the graffiti marks from anywhere. There had been no injuries or any sign of a struggle. The only boot prints were Tyler's and nothing had been found on him but acid on his lips. At this point, the report also mentioned the murder of Bella Swan.

Thankfully, there was no mention of the body in the woods that Damon had killed less than a week ago. No doubt the corpse was rotting beneath a cover of leaves.

"I didn't kill him… I swear. The only reason I recognise that alleyway is because it was in Elena's dream."

Lucerna's wings twitched behind her back. The light that was cast from them was blinding and Damon found that he had to look away. They were nothing like his wings Lucerna's were perfectly formed, each feather pristine, white and silver and pointed at the tip. They were smaller than Damon's but held just as much power. She leaned forward in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees. Understanding blue eyes gazed back at him.

"What happened in the dream?" she asked, pronouncing each word clearly. "I want to know everything."

So Damon told her. He told her about the alleyway he had found Elena and Tyler in. He described the graffiti and how it matched that in the report. He told her how he had found them: Elena pressed up against the wall by Tyler who had raised a knife above his head. And that was when he had interrupted and lost control. "…I killed him. I took his soul and I killed him," Damon finished, glancing up at Lucerna.

A moment of silence stretched before them after Damon's confession. It left him to think and he didn't like thinking into things too much. So, because Tyler had died in Elena's dream due to Damon's interference, the boy had died? It didn't seem likely, but stranger things had happened. Like the vampire, Elijah, falling for the human boy. But however much Damon thought about it, he couldn't help but be pleased. The bastard had tried to rape Elena. And now he was dead. Karma. What a bitch. If Lucerna hadn't been watching him closely, he would have smirked.

"So he's dead," Lucerna finally spoke, her voice soft. "Possibly because of your interference in her dreams." She sighed and another silence stretched before them. "You need to control yourself more. Somehow, I don't care how, but you have to manage your demon side. For far too long you've gone on as if you can't help it." She held a hand up to silence him when Damon tried to protest. "I know you can't help some of it, but you can at least attempt to. If you know you need to feed, leave town. Go to New Orleans; it's bigger so the murders will attract less attention."

"And gathering souls?"

"That's your duty. There's nothing you can do about that. And you don't leave acid on them, do you?"

"Not what I know of, so that's safe?"

"It should be." After that agreement, Damon watched as his mother seemed to visibly relax. He watched her wings fold back into the slits of her blouse. He'd have to try that…but walking around school with rips in his shirt might attract attention…

Damon cast his attention back to the documents on his lap. Placing the papers back into their cardboard folder, he passed them back to Lucerna. "Where did you get those from? They don't look like things you could have got from the internet."

"A witch. Bonnie Bennett, I don't know if you know her?"

"That's my chemistry teacher," Damon said with a blank face. But inside his thoughts were a mess. So that was what she was… Suddenly everything clicked into place from the very moment she had rebounded his efforts to shatter her soul shield to the moments when she realised he was messing with Mikaelson's. Every strange thought he'd ever had about her made sense now. Everything he had sensed about her… But there was one thought that came to the forefront of his mind. "Why was my chemistry teacher here?"

Lucerna sank back into the chair and reached to the nearby coffee table for her usual mug of hot chocolate. "She knows what you are." Her words were sudden though Damon had grown to expect them. How else could the witch have rebounded Damon's attempts on her soul shield? "And she needed to drop those off." Lucerna gestured towards the documents on the coffee table.

"I don't understand why. Shouldn't she…I don't know, want me to leave town of something?"

"I don't know what she wants, Damon. I honestly don't know. But I want you to stay away from her at all costs. Just go to class, and stay out of her way. If push comes to shove, you'll drop her class."

**Angel of Death**

"Is that Matt?" Caroline asked, pointing across the street. Elena watched as she squinted. "He's holding hands with a guy!" She looked accusingly at Elena. "Did you know he was gay?"

Elena smirked. Finally, one thing she knew more about than Caroline. Caroline was used to knowing the school's gossip; something Elena barely listened to. "Yeah, he told me a while back." She squinted at the boy. Brown jelled hair, strong broad shoulders and an easy smile: Elijah. "That's cute-coffee-shop guy, you know."

Caroline's smile was instantly wiped off her face. "So I really was barking up the wrong tree, wasn't I?" She scoffed and turned her head to one side, shaking it in disbelief. "I can't believe it." A few seconds passed as they continued to walk down the street of shops. "So is the chap gay or bi? I wanna know if I could get a threesome."

"Bisexual, I think. I'm not too sure. And Matt's still gay. I doubt your womanly attributes would do much to excite him."

"I could wear a strap on."

Elena raised her eyebrows and attempted to keep a straight face. She couldn't. Her laughter filled the streets and made Matt and Elijah look up. Matt waved and turned to Elijah, his lips moving. No doubt filling him in on whom they were. But as Matt turned, the collar (stood up and not flat) moved in the wind, revealing a pale white bandage.

Abruptly Elena stopped laughing. Was that really a bandage? Or? Once Matt and Elijah had turned the corner, she turned to Caroline. "Was it just me, or did you see the bandage on Matt's neck?"

Caroline shrugged. "You were laughing. And you normally end up with tears in your eyes when you laugh. It's probably nothing." The walked for a bit before Caroline turned suddenly. Her lips were pulled back and her hands had come up. Her fingers were hooked into claws. In a stereotypical Dracula accent she said; "I'm cute-coffee-shop guy. I want to suck your blood." Her voice returned to normal, and she continued before Elena could get over her shock. "He works in Starbucks. I doubt he's gonna harm Matt. The worst he could possibly have would be a fetish for blood play. So where do you think I can find a black cat from?"

For an hour after Damon had left the shop, Caroline and Elena had spent time looking for little pieces that could finish their outfits. Caroline had picked a stereotypical witch; a black and purple corset with matching hat and flared out tutu. Now all they needed were Elena's white knee high boots and Caroline's black cat.

"I don't know where you'll find one. Maybe a charity shop? They have all sorts of stuffed animals." Elena looked away from Caroline, and glanced down one of the side streets to see if she could see any charity shops. As she did, she saw a skulking figure with its hood down. As if the person could sense her gaze, they turned around. Elena instantly recognised the dull brown eyes and floppy curly hair. At the same time, the words from the note she'd been given ran through her mind.

_"Watch your back. Be with someone at all times."_

"Caroline, I've seen a bank down there." Elena nodded her head down the side street. "I'll catch up with you. Just give me a few minutes to check my balance."

She didn't wait for Caroline's answer. Instead, Elena turned on her heel and walked down the side street. Here some of the shops were boarded up and the few surviving ones had dimmed lighting and didn't look very appealing. This street was cooler from the main one and the buildings cast down shadows that stretched out across the street. A few trees rustled in the wind.

Elena saw Knob – she'd been at school with him for years, and didn't even know his real name – pause as he heard her footsteps. For a moment he seemed to be stuck between the decision to walk away or walk towards her. But that moment was all she needed.

She caught up with him, and wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

Knob's wrist was thin and bony, and Elena's fingers encircled it easily, fingernails meeting. Despite watching her approach him, he started at her touch. Brown shallow eyes looked up at her, avoid of all emotion but surprise.

"What do you want?" His voice was gruff and harsh.

"Was that you? The note; in geography."

Elena watched as surprise flitted through those shallow eyes for a second before Knob schooled his expression. He tugged his wrist out of her hold and her fingers immediately let it go. He was stronger than what he looked. Glancing around the street (careful not to show her growing fears) Elena looked for anyone else. No one was there. This was too much like the Tyler situation. Before her fear could grow any more, he answered.

"I'll speak, don't tell Klaus though. I'd like to keep my two front teeth."

"Deal," she said quickly, too quickly.

As if he was nervous, Knob looked over his shoulder. And then over Elena's. "I heard him speaking about something. I didn't know what it was. So I hung around and listened. You see, I don't like being left out of things. Klaus is planning something, for you and that "bastard of newcomer"." Knob must have seen her frown at his words. He backtracked quickly. "Bastard of a newcomer' was his words, not mine – for Damon Salvatore. Apparently the guy has taken a "hate vendetta" against Klaus. He's shown him up, in one of his classes. I never caught which one. Anyway, they're going to get back at you. And it doesn't sound pretty. They're thinking of ending the things Tyler started. This is what they've been building up towards. But I don't know when. One of the teachers called me back before I could hear."

Elena's blood chilled at his words. Her blood seemed to thicken and slide like icicles throughout her veins. If they were going to finish what Tyler had started then… Oh good God… She swallowed thickly, hoping that he was just playing another one of their jokes. But Mikaelson always followed through on his threats… "Why are you telling me this? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Knob shook his head, his eyes alight with sympathy. It only made her hate him more. How could he, of all people; one of Mikaelson's close friends, find sympathy for her? He should have stopped them, he could have stuck up for her instead of listening to them taunt her…

"I don't hate you. But I'm a coward. I should have stopped this a long time ago. He'd never suspect me – we've been friends for years. I'm just trying to ease the guilt on myself. And a sick joke? I really wish I could turn around and laugh at you. I wish it was just the usual jokes and taunts. It's not. It's for real."

Elena blinked furiously, tears clouding her vision. Even now, a year on, people couldn't forget what happened. There would always be someone there, like Mikaelson, who would remind her. "Thanks." Was all she said as she walked away, leaving him in the middle of the shadowy street.

**Angel of Death**

Once back at home, Elena dumped her shopping in her bedroom before making her way back down the stairs to the living room. When she walked in, Jenna paused the TV and motioned for her to sit beside her. Something was bad. Taking the seat before her Aunt, Elena waited patiently for her to talk.

Jenna didn't speak straight away, which let Elena time to think about the drive home. After dropping Caroline off, Elena had broken down. The dam that she'd constructed to keep her tears at bay had broken. Piece by piece it had let all her fears through. Mikaelson really was going to try and finish what Tyler had started…

It had taken her half an hour to sort herself out, wipe away the make-up that had run and allow time for her red eyes to dull.

But now she was alright. She was home; Mikaelson couldn't do anything here…

"Elena, I need you to listen."

She looked up expectantly to her Aunt. Whatever it was couldn't make her day any worse.

"Alaric was speaking to Lucerna Salvatore, the new tenant in the boarding house. She heard off Bonnie Bennett, your chemistry teacher, that there's been another murder. I need you to be careful. I want you to take pepper spray where ever you go. And please, don't go anywhere on your own or with someone you don't know very well."

Elena was numb to this news. The threat to her own life had remarkably numbed her own emotions towards things. All she could think was _"that could be me in a few days, maybe next week, or in the next month."_

"Who was it?"

"Tyler Lockwood. He was found in an alleyway."

Even though her emotions were numbed, the name of her attacker still brought tears to her eyes. Thinking it was because Elena knew the boy, Jenna brought Elena in for a hug. Her Aunt whispered soothing words into her ear as her shoulders shook.

But little did she know of the thoughts going through Elena's mind. The dream she had was going through her mind. Damon had killed Tyler. And now Tyler was dead. The dream had happened in an alley way. And Tyler had been found in alleyway…

Coupled with the threat to her life, and the death of her assailant; Elena broke down. The tears flowed freely and for once, for the very first time since the incident, she wished she could tell Jenna everything. She wished that she could tell everyone the truth. But she knew she couldn't.

They would only look at her in disgust, and cast her aside like she was nothing. After all, it was exactly like Tyler had said; it was her fault. Even though Elena could think of no reason why Tyler had tried to rape and murder her, she believed his words. His words were like a poisonous serpent; always there to mess with her mind.

And it was all her fault.

**Hey up! Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter! It exceeded my expectations and I'd love it if we could match it or even beat it this time? Hope you liked this chapter! I just had to add Elena's thoughts in about her body as it's something every teenage girl (myself included) goes through at some point or another. And what do you think to the threat? And Bonnie? I'd loved to know!**

** And if you've got the time, I'd love it if you could go check out TinyDancer365's stories! They're great, if you like this type of story (or any of my smut) then you'll love hers too!**

** Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I'd be thankful if you continue to do the same! Any questions, don't hesitate to ask! :D xx**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

For the first time in centuries, Damon felt uneasy. With every step towards the chemistry class, Lucerna's words rang through his mind. _"Stay away from her."_ The 'her' in questions, was Bonnie Bennett, a witch come chemistry teacher. Maybe it wasn't just stereotypical witches that liked brewing potions?

The main problem about Bonnie was that she knew about Damon. She knew he was an Angel of Death. And that wasn't good. Because that meant that she would most likely know about Lucerna – which wasn't much of a problem, she was an angel; hardly a soul sucking demon like himself. But that shouldn't faze him, it wasn't the first time someone found out what he was. He just killed them within seconds of them knowing.

That was the problem. Damon couldn't kill Bonnie, not unless he used the good old fashioned way of the knife to the throat. During his first lesson, Damon had tried to shatter her soul shield but had failed. To get to another's soul he had to get through the shield.

As if reacting to his dilemma, Damon's wings shuddered beneath his skin and an intense itch broke out over his back. Freedom. They wanted to be free. Taking a deep breath, Damon rolled his shoulders. Usually that would calm them and take away the itchy feeling. It didn't work.

With a quick roll of his eyes, Damon realised that they would most likely be like that for the rest of the day. Putting a fake smirk on his face to hide his discomfort, Damon pushed open the door to the classroom.

Despite the garish yellow paint on the walls, Damon's attention was brought to Elena straight away. She was leaning over one of the desks, talking to another boy. He hadn't met him yet, but he reeked of vampire; but not enough to be a vampire. _More than likely a fang banger, _Damon concluded as he took his seat.

From where he was sat, Damon observed Bonnie. She was sat behind her desk, her dark hair tucked behind one ear as she nibbled daintily on the end of a pencil. As if she could sense his gaze (she probably could, stupid witchy senses) she turned to look at him. Her wide brown eyes stared back unwavering. When he met her eyes calmness, not like the one Elena's soul gave him, but calmness nonetheless washed through him. It was fake and weighed heavy upon his shoulders but settled his wings more comfortably under his skin. For that, Damon was grateful.

He gave her a quick smirk and a nod of his head.

"Hey!" Her voice startled him and Damon looked around to see Elena sitting down on the stool beside him. "I didn't see you come in."

"Yeah," Damon nodded. "I've been here a while."

"Sorry." She grinned, not seeming apologetic at all. "I was just speaking to Matt." Elena motioned to the boy she'd just being speaking to: the one that smelt like a fang banger. "He hasn't been here the past few days."

"I thought so, I haven't seen him about." Damon frowned as he looked at Elena. She seemed paler then when he'd seen her on Saturday and her eyes flickered over his shoulder to Mikaelson far too often. "Is there anything happening behind me?" Damon glanced behind him, seeing Mikaelson whispering with a boy beside him.

Startled by his question, Elena spluttered for a few seconds before answering. "No, it's nothing. Am I not allowed to look where I want to?"

Damon blinked at her and raised an eyebrow. Her defensive answer wasn't something he was expecting. Even though it showed she was clearly hiding things. But he wasn't one to pry. He'd said that to her when they'd first met and he wasn't willing to go back on his word. Instead he shrugged and asked; "Did you buy the outfit I saw you in, on Saturday?"

Elena nodded and a little dint formed between her eyebrows as she frowned. Good. She didn't know what was coming which meant she was more likely to accept. "Yeah I did, did you? I never told you, but it suited you. Dark and mysterious."

He glanced away as he tried to keep a straight face. If only Elena knew how different he was to everyone else. How dark he truly was, or what mysteries he had to live with and hide on a daily basis. Damon nodded and looked back at her. "This might seem forward, but I was wondering if you were going with anyone?"

"Why? Do you need a lift or something? I'll happily take you."

"No, no!" Damon said quickly, a smile on his face. "I was wondering if you'd go with me? I could pick you up at yours, and we could go together. And I'll bring you back."

There was a sharp noise on the window of the classroom. As if someone was persistently tapping on it. Elena glanced over her shoulder and Damon followed her gaze. A crow was stood on a near branch, its large beady eyes staring at Damon as it pecked furiously at the window.

That was the reason his wings were unsettled. There was a dying person nearby and it was his duty to gather their soul. But he couldn't go now, not when-

"Damon, you're nice and all. You really are." He steeled himself for rejection. The light of her soul shined so bright, to be denied that…he would lose all control that he had. If Lucerna thought the murders he committed now were bad… "But I've got to ask. Why all the sudden attention?"

The question stumped Damon. Usually he was prepared to answer anything but the suddenness and the sadness of which she asked it brought him up short. "I don't understand what you mean? I like you. Is it so wrong for a guy to speak to you?" The images from Elena's dream flashed through Damon's mind. If this was what she thought because of that bastard then… Damon was glad that Tyler Lockwood had perished.

She shook her head quickly, a fiery blush flaring across her cheeks. Before she could answer, the crow pecked on the window again and Damon could hear its loud cackling caw through the glass. "I'm just not used to it, that's all. Normally guys avoid me."

"I don't know why," said Damon honestly. He'd have to play dumb with her until Elena told him about the Tyler incident herself. But even then, that wasn't enough for them to avoid her. Unless Elena wanted it that way. "And I'm not your average guy, I can assure you that."

Again the crow knocked persistently on the window and Damon's wings withered beneath his skin. He'd have to leave class in a few moments or risk losing control in front of a group of teenagers. Soul gathering made him invisible to all but the dying person – but a sudden disappearance into thin air would still be hard to explain.

Out of his eye corner, Damon saw Bonnie pause and turn to face the class. Her eyes met his and then flashed to the crow. Damon saw a look of concentration pass through her eyes before she glanced over at the phone. Within seconds, it began to ring. The shrill noise made the crow pause in its tapping, only to resume moments later. Picking the phone up, Bonnie answered it.

"Yeah, he's here."

Only seconds passed, not long enough for a reply, before Bonnie answered with; "Yeah, I'll send him to you."

She placed the phone down and looked back at Damon. "The headmaster wants to see you, Damon." Bonnie offered nothing more but her eyes flickered back to the crow on the edge of the window. He nodded his thanks to her, knowing that she was giving him a way out…

"Elena, I have to go. Please, can I have you answer?"

Elena looked back at him, worry and a slight tinge of fear in his brown eyes. A few seconds passed and Damon rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. The itching in his skin was almost too much to bear.

"I'll go with you. Here's my number." She scribbled the digits down on the side of her jotter before tearing the scrap of paper from her book. "Call or message me with the time arrangements."

Damon nodded his thanks before grasping the paper like it was a life line. Without a look back, he walked briskly from the room. Good God his wings were aching. The skin between his shoulder blades ached and he could feel his skin tearing as his wings heaved beneath his flesh.

"Damon!" A sharp voice called him back and he paused with his hand on the door. "I'd like to see you, when you get back," Bonnie said but her tone of voice meant there was no argument. "See me at the end of school. Today preferably."

**Angel of Death**

Damon pulled his shirt from the branches of a nearby tree. He'd barely had time to take it off before his wings unfurled from his back, painless because of his duty. Shaking the shirt to rid it of stray leaves, Damon shrugged it back on. After a few tugs, pulls and fastening of buttons, he was ready to go back into the school. More time than expected had passed. Partly because the dying man just didn't want to die.

If people didn't want to die, then they would fight for their soul and it would turn into a tug of war instead of the peaceful passing that it should be. In the end, Damon had tugged his soul free, inch by inch and watched as the life drained from the man's eyes. But these things had to be done. People had to die and people had to be born.

As he passed one of the classroom windows, Damon glanced in and smoothed his hair back to its usual style. There were few people in the corridors; classes were still on most likely. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was near the end of the day. Only a couple more minutes and Bonnie would be free to talk to him…

So instead of taking the walk there (what was the point of rushing? She wanted to see him, so she could wait) Damon fished out his phone and the scrap of paper that Elena had written her number down on. He could only hope it was the right number. Not that any woman had ever turned him down… But there was always a first time for everything. Pressing the number into his phone, Damon saved it and sent a quick message. _Hey, Elena. It's Damon. Hope you get this. :) _

There. It was short, sweet and to the point. And she would know it was from him.

Eventually, the bell rang and Damon made his way to Bonnie's classroom. Students moved out of his way as if they could sense that he was different. It didn't matter. It just made the journey easier.

When he was outside the classroom, he raised his hand to knock. If he was polite then maybe the witch wouldn't blow his brains out. But before he could knock, Bonnie called him through. Eerie. Even if he himself was supernatural, he hadn't yet gotten used to the fact that magic could happen.

"Ahh, Damon. I'm glad you could make it." Bonnie shuffled a few papers around on her desk before pushing back her computer chair and standing. "Take a seat if you want." She gestured to one of the many stools dotted around the room.

"I hope you don't mind but I'd prefer to stand," Damon said as he leaned against one of the high desks. He folded his arms over his chest and nodded for her to talk.

Bonnie pursed her lips but pushed herself up so she sat on the desk opposite him. The desk where Mikaelson usually sat. "Everyone has their own preference," she began. "I'm not one to sugar coat things-"

"Good, that makes two of us."

She continued after she gave him an expectant look. "-or to beat around the bush. You're an Angel of Death, Damon. I know this."

Damon nodded slowly, wondering where she was going with it. He raised an eyebrow when she offered no further explanation. If this was all she wanted to see him about then… "I know. My species are quite common. With the human population increasing rapidly…" he rolled his wrist and made a gesture in the air to explain the obvious. "It's not surprising that a witch like yourself managed to figure me out. Though I did think I was being discreet about it."

Bonnie nodded her head, not denying anything – even when Damon said she was a witch. "I'll admit," she started after taking a deep breath. "You had me fooled when you first arrived. I knew you weren't human, the vibe around you gave that away." It was the same feeling Damon had gotten when he'd first seen Bonnie. It was the vibe that told his instincts to be wary around her, to always be suspicious. "But then the murders began to happen. Nothing but acid left on their bodies, all of them happening when you came to town. It didn't take me long to figure it out… And then when you tried to shatter my soul."

"Soul shield," Damon corrected. He offered no other explanation despite the eagerness to learn in her eyes. The less he said about himself the less danger he could potentially put himself in. "And I didn't know what you were. I wanted to know if you knew of the rituals to strengthen the shield. If you did then it would indicate that you knew a little about the supernatural way of life."

"Clever. And, yes, I do. It was something my Grams taught me to do."

"Bonnie Bennett, you did say you didn't like to beat around the bush. I find that you're doing that right now." Damon pushed himself away from the desk and took a step forward. "I'm not very patient; especially when I've got things to do."

She jumped down from the desk and Damon stopped himself from smirking when she only came up to his shoulder. Height meant nothing. It was only used as a deception. "Is it true that you, and all of your…kind, have no control over their demons?"

"To a certain degree. Due to my heritage I have more control that some of the others. But I still need to feed… That's when the demon takes over and… You know the outcome."

Bonnie nodded, taking in all the information. "Your mixed heritage; Incubus father and an angel mother?" Her tone was indifferent as she pried.

Damon immediately schooled his expression. How did she know that much? Surely Lucerna wouldn't have given her so much information? And if not, just how much did the witch know about his family? Or more to the point, Lucerna? Damon couldn't give a damn about his father – as far as Damon knew, the guy was dead centuries ago. But Lucerna, no… Damon wouldn't allow her to be harmed.

He took another step forward and allowed his eyes to flicker to complete darkness. Bonnie's shape blurred to a faint outline but Damon felt his strength increase. Blinking, he returned his eyes to normal just in time to see the brief flash of fear in Bonnie's eyes. Good. "What do you know about my mother? If she's in any danger, I swear…" Damon's words trailed off, the threat clear. Suddenly, his wings could take to more. With a spark of pain, that went unfelt due to his rage, Damon's wings broke through the skin between his shoulder blades.

The shirt he had tried so hard to preserve tore and the material got stuck in his wings and lay in scraps around his feet. Blood splattered the walls of the classroom. A little speck of deep red landed on Bonnie's check. She made no move to wipe it away, too fascinated to say or do anything. A growl from deep in his chest startled Bonnie.

"No, no she's not in any danger," she said quickly.

Damon took another step towards her. His vision was flickering between blurred and normality. Inside he could feel the icy battle as his angel heritage sought to control his demonic side. He saw a fierce look flash across her face before a blinding pain, stronger than his wings bursting from his back, spread across his temples.

His breathing became ragged and shallow. Pain, like nothing he'd ever felt, spiked through his mind. Even the beat of his own heart was too much to bear. The sounds around him assaulted his sensitive hearing. Blood rushed through his veins faster than normal and his vision blurred but not because of the demon, tears of pain gathered in the corners of his eyes and a pained noise, a mix between a whimper and a scream, came from his parted lips.

And then it all stopped.

As soon as it had come, the pain disappeared. He looked up at Bonnie, who stared back at him. "Threaten me again, Damon. And that's what you'll get. You're mother's safe. She's for the light. She won't kill unless it's to protect you."

Damon staggered to his feet. Somewhere in amongst the torrents of pain, he'd fallen to his knees with his hands clenched in his hair. "I know she won't," he said as he gasped for air. "But she's my mother, I'm loyal to her. If you know anything about us, anything at all you should know that."

Bonnie took a step forward and ignored his words. "But you can't control who you kill. I understand your duty, and to interfere with that would be to interfere with nature. But when you hunt, you can have more control. You can choose your victims."

He met her eyes in a steady look. The tension in the room continued to build and Damon felt his wings twitch in response to it. "How? And isn't choosing your victims a little psychopathic?"

"I can give you a ring," Bonnie explained hastily. "A Lapis Lazuli ring. It will strengthen your angel side so you'll have more control over your demon. It will allow you to still have your own mind when you hunt."

"And this will help, how?"

"You can pick your victims. They don't have to be innocents. You could feed from murderers with no conscious, rapists. Anyone who hurt another in a life changing way. You'd be doing the world a favour."

But to that would be to interfere with his own nature. Something he'd lived with since he was born and but a toddler. He could still remember the way his mother had lead him out for hunting, leading her blind son (putting her own life at risk because she was near an Angel of Death) to nearby campers so he could feed. She'd watched him as he changed before her eyes, as he lost control and gave into the pain that his body suffered. For years, until he was old enough not to panic at the pain and sudden blindness, Lucerna had led him on his hunts – acting as his own eyes.

The disappointment and worry that she'd shown over the past years swam through Damon's mind. If he could hunt this way, then he wouldn't disappoint her. Lucerna wouldn't have to worry about him…

But more than that, it would make him a slightly better person…which meant that Elena was more likely to stay with him. Damon would do anything for his mate – even kill his own mother if it meant it. He would appear more human if he didn't kill innocents…

"When will it be ready?"

**Hey up! Sorry for the short chapter, but I thought it was best to end it there. I'd love to know your thoughts if you review! Thanks for all your previous comments and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! :D xx**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

The message from Damon had been unexpected. Elena had given him her number but hadn't expected anything back from it other than a few prank calls. But when she received his message, nothing more than a short, to the point comment, she'd forgotten all about her worries. For a while Elena sat there, nibbling on her finger nails deciding what to reply. She'd never been so nervous in her entire life!

When five minutes had passed, she decided to bite the bullet.

_Hey, Damon! I got your message! How are you and what time are you free to pick me up? :)_

Elena had stopped once more at the end of her message. A smiley face or an 'x'? Eventually she'd decided on the face. Damon had never specified which way he "liked" so the face would do for both.

Throwing the phone down onto her bed, she flopped down beside it. Her body bounced on the bed for a beat before she settled in the thick covers. Today had been the first day at school since she'd met Knob in the abandoned town.

And it had been awful.

Every sound had made her jump. She'd flinched every time any male besides Damon or Matt had spoken to her. Every time Mikaelson had glanced her way, Elena had ducked her head and scurried on, her cheeks ablaze with a bright blush. It had gotten to the point where she reacted the same way she had the day after Tyler had attempted to do what he had done.

Paranoia had raced through her veins and prickled her skin. The whispers in the corridors had made her hunch her shoulders and wish to disappear. Even the two laughing girls that walked behind her, made thoughts swirl around Elena's head. Were they laughing at her? Were the whispering about Mikaelson's plan? Or about her? And it had only gotten worse when she'd seen Mikaelson with Twit, Minge and Knob.

They'd been laughing about something, their heads thrown back and their mouths gaping open like fish in a pond. Only Knob looked strained, and worry lines creased his forehead. Mikaelson had nudged Twit as Elena had approached and both of them had looked at her with lecherous eyes. The closer she got to them, the quieter they became and the more they whispered. Mikaelson's eyes had never left hers. Those blue eyes had hidden secrets and malice danced in them that had never been there before.

Knob had been right. They were planning something. And Mikaelson would be sure to follow through with it.

The vibration from her phone startled Elena from her reverie. Her hand groped around the bed until she finally found the object. Grasping it in her hand, she rolled over so she could text on her side.

Damon's name flashed up on the screen.

Never before had Elena found herself scrambling to unlock her phone so fast. No one, not even, Alaric, Caroline or ten missed calls from Jenna had ever made her react so swiftly. Her worries were instantly pushed aside as she read over the message.

_Glad to know you got it. And I'm fine at the moment – I've just got back in. I'll pick you up at seven? And I'll bring you back whenever you feel like it. X_

There! There was an 'x'! Only a dim-witted fool could not know what that meant! For the first time, Elena allowed herself to wallow in her own feelings of warmth. Normally she would have berated herself for rushing to the phone for a guy…but…this was Damon Salvatore. And despite everything about her, everything he could have easily found out, he wanted to see her! And an 'x'! An undignified squeal left her lips.

A year had passed since the Tyler incident. Surely she should be moving on with her life? Elena found herself nodding to her own thoughts. Maybe Damon was the right way to start? If she could start to trust him, then maybe there was hope for everyone else? He'd already said he wouldn't pry, and he wouldn't listen to gossip. Damon seemed nice enough… Yeah, she would start her life again.

She would start by making more of an effort. She would wear a bit more make-up and go out in the sun more so she wouldn't look as pale. She would wear nicer clothes, clothes that showed off her figure instead of baggy sweats and hoodies. Elena would do more with herself. She'd try to stop the flinching whenever a guy approached her. She would grow immune to the name Eleanor…

Another glance at Damon's text sent another wave of warmth through her.

This was it; maybe this was how she would finally put Tyler behind her for good.

**Angel of Death**

Saturday couldn't come faster. Or maybe it wouldn't arrive slower? Elena couldn't make her mind up whether she wanted the Halloween party to arrive sooner or later. Every time she thought about it, butterflies would manifest in her stomach. But it wasn't the party itself which made her nervous. It was the ride to the party that made her stomach flip.

An entire car journey with Damon. It wouldn't be awkward would it? They got on well enough in class, he even seemed to favour her over Mikaelson which was always a plus. And he had admitted that he liked her. And he's sent a kiss in his last message…

At the thought of their text messages, Elena felt herself flush. It had been all innocent, but she'd never flirted so much with one person. And the fact that Damon actually flirted _back_ was another thing. Never before had she stayed up all night – not realising that time was flying by – to talk to someone else. Even with Caroline that had never happened before.

Even Jenna had commented on how she seemed more _alive _and happy lately. And Alaric…the guy walked around with a smug knowing look on his face but whenever Jenna would ask him about it, he would be evasive and give nothing away. Until the point where Jenna had cornered them both; demanding to know why Elena was so damn happy and Alaric was so damn smug.

So they'd finally told her. Or more to the point, Alaric had. After she'd heard everything, Jenna had expressed her feelings and her thoughts. All in all, she felt that it was good that Elena was actually making an effort to mingle with the opposite sex. It wasn't as awkward or as embarrassing as Elena had thought it would be. And surprisingly, there was no birds and bees talk that came afterwards…

Elena glanced over at the clock on her bedside cabinet. Good, she had two hours left until Damon arrived. She looked over at the nurse outfit that was splayed across the bed, the knee high boots beside it on the floor. Picking up one of the boots, she sat down as she tugged it on. As she continued to get ready, her thoughts drifted back to when Caroline had asked her who she was going with…

_Flashback:_

"_So who are you going to the party with? I'm on my lonely so Matt was going to give me a lift in. He's meeting Elijah there – he said he didn't want to appear too gay! I snorted at that! But anyways, he was wondering if you wanted a lift in," Caroline had said while they sat at their regular table in Starbucks. As she'd mentioned Elijah's name, her eyes had drifted over to him. Obviously she hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that a guy – or any in that matter – couldn't be interested in her. _

_ Elena shook her head and wiped her upper lip free of coffee. "Sorry, Caroline. But can you tell Matt that I've got a lift with someone else?"_

_ Caroline's eyes widened. "What?" she exclaimed. "You're joking me?" She said while her eyes betrayed her own emotions. Disappointment had flared deep within them before she could cover it. "Who is it?"_

_ "Damon Salvatore – he asked me in chemistry-"_

_ "Say no more, girlfriend!" Caroline's tone had changed to a sudden excitement that should only be seen on a five year old in a candy store. "You. Are. Totally. In there! Tell me everything! Have you been texting? Sexting even?"_

_ "Caroline, keep your voice down!" But Elena couldn't keep the smile off her face. "No, we haven't been sexting. But we've been texting."_

_ "Has he phoned yet?"_

_ "Yeah, just to ask about some chemistry homework." _

_ "Was that all?" Caroline's eyebrows scrunched up and she ran her fingers through a stray curl of blonde hair. "Are you totally sure he was flirting?"_

_ "He stayed on the phone all night. In the end he admitted it was just an excuse to phone. Not that he needed one…" Elena murmured and she grinned as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Moments later her message tone pinged and Caroline's eyebrows shot up to disappear beneath her fringe. "Speak of the devil." Elena's grin widened and she took another sip of her coffee before fishing her phone out of her pocket. _

_ As she read the text, taking longer than normal to annoy Caroline, Elena felt her insides flutter. "So? Come on, woman! What does he want?"_

_ "It's only Jenna," Elena teased as she passed her phone over. "Damon wants to know what time to pick me up. And where I live so he knows where to pick me up."_

_ "Or stalk you!" _

_Flashback over:_

Elena now stood in front of her full length mirror, fully dressed in the Halloween costume. The white knee high boots that she'd bought encased her calves tightly and showed off the figure of her legs. She'd also about a small silver locket that hung on a chain. It followed the sheer low cut neck of the nurse outfit, resting just above her cleavage. Cleavage. The new underwear that Caroline had insisted that she buy, really had outdone itself. Just beneath the blood stained white material over her underwear, a blue lacy bra showed. And she had matching underwear.

Even if Damon didn't see it, which if Elena had anything to do with it, he wouldn't. Or not just yet, anyway. It made her feel nice. It made her feel feminine. And that was good… It was like a shot of the strongest alcohol; it filled her with a sense of courage that in itself was sexy-

"Elena! Hurry up, there's a very handsome guy on the doorstep asking for you! I might have him for myself if you don't get a move on!" At Jenna's shout, Elena took one last glance in the mirror before heading down the stairs. Her feet wobbled in the ridiculously high heels – she hadn't worn a pair for so long.

As she walked down the stairs, she saw Damon look up from where he was standing. His eyes widened dramatically and he visibly looked her up and down. His dark eyes took in the curves of her body, the swell of her hips before rising – pausing briefly at her slight cleavage before settling on her face. Or more to the point, her lips. "Hey, Elena," Damon said lowly, offering his hand as she came to the last couple of steps. "You look fantastic."

In the hallway, Elena heard Alaric clear his throat. "Wonder why…" he trailed off.

Ignoring Jenna's boyfriend, Elena took Damon's offered hand. "You don't look so bad yourself." Damon had pushed the hood back to revel his dark eyes and he'd jelled his hair differently. Instead of being rough and sophisticated, it was all rough and wild making her wish she could run her hands through it and pull him closer… _Oh Lord, where had that thought come from?_ Elena thought in a panic as she felt her cheeks blaze. She thought of everything she could to calm her raging blush. The circulatory cells in Geography… The structure of a penis in biology… _Oh God, now she had Damon naked in her mind…_ Armadillos could suffer from Leprosy… Oh good, that was working. There was nothing hot about an Armadillo…

"Elena?" Jenna called from the doorway. "Damon's just asked you if you want to go or if you want to wait a bit."

God damn it… The blush was back again. "Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed. "It's up to you. I'm alright either way. I mean, if you want to go now we can do…"

Damon was chuckling but his dark eyes sparkled in the dim light of the hallway. "If you wish to go then we can go. You might see Caroline or Matt there too."

"You might want to go," Alaric said with a grin on his face. He appeared in the door beside Jenna, an arm around her waist. "Before Elena totally zones out on you."

Shooting Alaric a glare, Elena took Damon's offered hand once more. It was warm and soothing and held hers in a light yet strong grasp. There was a hidden strength in his hands… "We better go before Alaric tries to make any more bad jokes." She laughed lightly, smirking at Alaric as he pretended to look offended.

When they reached the front door, Elena opened it as Damon called over his shoulder. "It was nice meeting you, ma'am, Sir."

"I've told you, Damon! Call me Jenna! And this is Alaric and he's definitely no sir!"

Before they could call out to her or Damon again, Elena pulled the door shut and turned on the porch to meet Damon. "Hey," she said breathlessly, looking up at him. "Sorry about Alaric grumbling in the beginning. He might not be my dad but…he's overprotective."

"Hey back," Damon said with a smirk, his own voice low. "Wouldn't you rather him be like that, than not care about you at all?" He raised an eyebrow and his other hand came forward to clasp hers. They stood for a few moments on the porch way, their eyes locked. Finally Damon sighed. "Elena, there's something I've got to tell you…"

Thought, numerous, various thoughts, none of them good raced through Elena's mind. What could he mean by this? Was he in on the note? Did he know about Tyler, finally, and had he decided that she was carrying too much baggage? Were there too many skeletons in her closet?

She only came out of her reverie when she heard Damon's spluttering in front of her. "I've wanted to tell you this. I don't know if this is too fast or anything… If it is just tell me. But since I met you I've – Oh, I don't know how to say this. I'm usually decent when asking women. Not that I do often! I mean, I'm a guy and all… But I really don't… Can I just show you instead?"

Before she could answer, or if she thought back on this moment later on, it was before Damon's courage could fail, Damon's lips met hers. It was a chaste kiss, soft but so full of passion and hunger for more. And it was over far too quickly.

When she could think again, she saw Damon waiting expectantly for her answer. "So, any chance you'll give me a try? I know you said that you don't date…"

She swallowed thickly, her eyes darting over his face: his strong chiselled jaw, freshly shaven with the scent of shaving foam that still clung to his skin, Damon's dark eyes; so alight with curiosity and a lust she hadn't seen in any males eyes (at least not directed towards her) in years and his hair that fell in front of his eyes despite the gel. Elena could do this. She could give Damon the chance she'd given no other guy for years. "I know I said that, and I usually don't date. You know, because of things in the past and all… But, I like you Damon, I really do… It's just…"

Damon was shaking his head, disappointment on his face. "No. It's fine, Elena. You said you didn't date, I should have respected that."

"You didn't let me finish," she responded with a growing grin. "Give me time – let me get to know you a bit more before I say anything. Please, give me time, Damon."

Elena watched as a hundred kilowatt smirk exploded over Damon's lips. "I'll give you all the time in the world…"

They stayed there for a bit longer before Damon's eyes began to flicker. It was the same way they had in the costume shop when he'd first seen her in the nurses outfit. The whites of his eyes had become darker. He rolled his shoulders once more, a habit Elena had gotten used to… But his eyes…

Damon blinked rapidly and looked away. "Sorry about that, it's the contacts I picked up for the costume. They move about sometimes." When he looked back at her, his eyes were normal, the whites pearly and pristine. "Should we set off now?"

Damon led her down the porch steps, lifting her over the few puddles that spanned the pathway. He held the gate open and gestured for her to go through. As she turned to him, she watched as he carefully hid the look of annoyance that flashed over his face. Once again, he rolled his shoulders and fidgeted beneath the large black clock that covered his shoulders. When he saw her looking, he smiled again, flashing his straight white teeth. "The car's just across the road. Sorry, I couldn't get parked closer."

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Damon seemed more nervous than her. But the way he kept fidgeting suggested he was hiding something… Or it could just be her own overly suspicious mind that was playing tricks… "I don't mind the walk." _It will allow time for my bloody blush to go…_

When they reached the car, Elena stopped in front of it. She was never good with cars. She knew the names of them like Ford, Lamborghini, Nissan and all the other usual ones. But she didn't know the real names of cars. But that didn't matter. Elena knew a nice car when she saw one…

"Wow, I didn't know what to expect… But I wasn't expecting this." She ran a hand over the bumper, her bright red nails contrasting with the blue bonnet. Her hand left the cool bonnet when Damon came around to open her door.

"What did you expect? A truck like that chick had out of _Twilight_?" Damon joked as he gently shut the door behind her.

Elena shook her head quickly and laughed. "Good Lord no, I hate that book. I just expected like, I don't know…a Corsa or something. You know, the stereotypical boy racer car…"

"I look like a boy racer?" Damon deadpanned as he started the engine. "I really do need to change my image then."

"Damon, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to –"

"Offend? Forget about it, you didn't." he smirked as he looked over at her. "People have said _way_ worse. Like the fact that an Xbox is better than a Playstation."

"What? No! You have got to be joking me! That's just wrong! But the Wii does beat them all…"

Damon raised his eyebrows as he pulled away from the curb. Soon the houses of the neighbourhood were disappearing. Out of the corner of her eye, Elena saw Damon's house go by as they drove. "I'm guessing you're more of a _Mario Cart_ type of a girl?"

**Angel of Death**

The drive to the party passed in a similar manner of a "getting to know you" conversation. Neither of them had laughed so much in their life, and Damon saw Elena relax more every time they spoke to one another. But no matter how much Damon tried to keep his demonic side at bay, he kept slipping up.

It had happened outside her house. The kiss and then the fear of rejection and then the hope when Elena said she needed time were all too much. His eyes had flickered and her beautiful frame had blurred before his eyes. Damon had blamed it on "contact lenses" but he'd seen the look Elena had given him. She didn't believe him. And then his wings had wanted freedom and the itch beneath his skin had started again. Even the comfort of rolling his shoulders had done no good.

And now he was slipping up in the car. Thankfully it wasn't as noticeable. The street lights that flashed by caused shadows over both of their faces so Elena couldn't notice the changes in his eyes as easily.

He couldn't wait until Bonnie had finished that ring. She'd said she would be ready by Monday, and that she would do it Sunday night to give to him at the end of the day on Monday. Which meant she would be doing it tomorrow.

The herbs and ingredients she needed were easy to come by. Apparently she had most of them already; even the angel blood – which Damon thought was really weird. Bonnie had said that the ring needed to be soaked in angel blood so it would strengthen his angel side instead of reacting with his demonic heritage. But she'd also mentioned something else. That if the angel whose blood she was using was alive, they would die if Damon were to kill an innocent… But after that, Bonnie had hastily said that the angel was already dead. She'd collected the blood from the corpse of one of the dead.

That was really weird. But Damon hadn't questioned her. Instead he'd said yes, and that he'd be thankful when the ring was complete. He'd give up anything if it meant he could be slightly more normal for Elena. Until they were mated, in which case the light of her own soul would destroy his demonic side for good…

"Damon, it's just around the corner," Elena murmured, pointing to a turning on his right. "Thanks for the ride, I forgot to say."

"You didn't have to. It's my pleasure," he said as he turned the corner.

"Thanks anyway. The house is just up there. These parties get so wild, at least they used to. I don't normally go to them."

"That's more of a reason to keep you close to me then," Damon winked as he parked the car, looking over his shoulder as he reversed. "If you don't mind that is."

"Good. I might not get lost that way," she chuckled as she unfastened her seatbelt. "I normally end up getting lost or getting into some sort of trouble."

Damon got out of the car first, the wings of his costume scraping along the doorframe. As he opened Elena's door, he looked around cautiously. The streets around them were dark with only a few flickering street lights to light the way. He shuddered as he looked around. It wasn't in fear, or shock or any sort of negative emotion. It was to do with the overall atmosphere that emanated from the house itself. Something bad was going to happen. And Damon couldn't help but wish he could bundle Elena back into the car and take her somewhere safer.

"Damon? Can I get out now?" At the sound of her voice, Damon stepped back and reluctantly opened the car door. "I know, the house is huge. It's a shock sometimes," Elena continued as she stepped out. "But just wait until you get inside. It'll be insane."

Elena wasn't lying either. When they stepped inside, Damon saw that she froze in the doorway. Grasping her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb over her palm before she relaxed. "It's been a while since I came to anything like this." At her words, her dream flashed through Damon's eyes. No wonder, Elena wouldn't have wanted to put herself in any situation where the outcome could possibly end in what the Lockwood boy had tried.

As they weaved through the tightly packed bodies, Damon glanced around. Multi-coloured disco lights flew around the large living room and smoke machines were bracketed to the walls so a mysterious mist descended down on the dancing bodies. On the large buffet table there were the traditional pumpkins, carved so the candles in them flickered and danced, giving the illusion of pupils on the triangular eye sockets. Loud music boomed out from speakers and vibrations raced along the floor with every beat of hip-hop. Various people looked at them both as they walked in, most of the girls gawking at the fact that Elena had come at all. And with him. Witches, zombies, vampires, pirates and slutty rag dolls all danced around the room, alcoholic drinks in their hands.

In the corner of the room, Damon saw a group of teenagers playing strip poker – two of the girls nearly naked already. In the middle of the room, loud chants of "chug! Chug! Chug!" could be heard as a boy attempted to down a bottle of jack Daniels from between a girl's thighs.

Dancing with Matt and Elijah was Caroline with a black cat perched on her shoulder. "There are Caroline and Matt over there," he shouted over the music. Elena turned to him, grinned and pulled him in the direction of her friends.

When Caroline saw them walking over, Damon saw her eyes visibly widen. She nudged Matt and Elijah and they waved as Elena came over. Matt, Caroline and Elena quickly embraced each other which left Elijah and Damon standing on the outside of their small group. Even the smell of alcohol and sweat, moving bodies couldn't cover up the pure smell of vampire that emanated from Elijah.

"Grim Reaper," Elijah nodded at him, his voice low but Damon caught every word of it.

"Vampire," he retorted. "I'm surprised you haven't chowed down on the Donovan boy yet." Elijah's hard brown eyes locked with Damon's and he saw the capillaries around his eyes darken. "Don't go all vampy on me. I know this is you natural habitat and all with the walking, talking blood bags in the dark but have some control."

Elijah took a step forward, his cool breath fanning out over Damon's skin. "I'd be careful if I were you. We don't want your little mate dead on the floor, do we?" He stepped back, a fake closed lipped smile on his face as Matt stepped back into his arms. "It's nice to meet you, Damon," Elijah said as his hips rested possessive on Matt's hips. "I hope we can get along." His words were fake, a hidden threat laced in them.

"Don't we all," Damon muttered back, looking around for Elena. When he found her, he moved up behind her, his hands holding gently onto her waist. She jumped at the feel of his body so close but smiled when she saw it was him. "Should I take that smile as a good sign, or a "go away you bloody creep"?" Damon joked as they began to move to the sound of the music.

"A good sign," Elena murmured as her head went back to rest on his chest. Her hands rest lightly on his forearms, the heat from that one touch penetrating down to Damon's bones. "I like this. And this is going to sound really sappy, but I do like you, Damon. And… I think I've just got to take a risk, you know?" She turned around in his arms and her breasts pushed against his chest and their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly. "So scrap what I said before, about wanting to get to know you before I decided if we should give 'us' a go… Just throw me in at the deep end. Do you wanna go out?"

Damon couldn't believe it. For a moment, his wings stilled beneath his skin in shock. Heat spread through his body, chasing away the icy claws that dug in his heart. "Only a fool could say no."

**Angel of Death**

A few hours of dancing, chaste kisses and more dancing past by quickly. Around them people commented on Both Damon and Elena's outfits though none seemed to realise their relationship. Besides Caroline. But Caroline noticed everything.

"Damon, I need a drink. Do you want one getting?" Elena asked him as she moved out of his arms. As Elena spoke, the previous feeling of wrongness crept back into Damon's body. Something was going to happen. Every instinct that he had screamed to not let her out of his sight… But that would appear controlling and he'd more than likely frighten her away. For a moment his thoughts battled between one another before he offered.

"I'll go and get the drinks if you want."

She shook her head and laughed. "No, Damon. You've been the gentleman all night. I don't want you feeling like a slave. Plus, it gives you time to get to know Elijah and Matt more."

Oh, if only she knew how well he knew Elijah. The prick had attempted to drain him dry a thousand years ago when Damon was younger. But Matt, the boy seemed alright. Damon could only hope that he lived longer than what any of Elijah's other fang bangers had. "Are you sure?"

Elena never answered him. Instead she waved him off and moved through the crowds. Within seconds she was from his sight.

"Damon!" Caroline called, waving him over to one corner of the crowded room. Her purple and black witch's hat was crooked and her fringe stuck to her head with sweat. But her cheeks were alight and her grin seemed infectious.

Damon moved over to her, manoeuvring around a zombie, rag doll and a strange girl dressed as a bee. "Caroline, what can I do for you?"

Her grin suddenly disappeared. "I swear to God, if you hurt her, I'll cut your bollocks off and use them as a purse!" And then the grin was back and all traces of menace had left her face. "Are we on the same page?"

"I'd rather cut my own bollocks off than hurt her."

"Good, I just wanted to make sure." Caroline sighed and leaned closer to him. "She hasn't told me everything. But I haven't got a cabbage on my shoulders. I've heard the rumours, I don't know if you have but, something happened. Something that shouldn't have happened… It's messed with her a bit, so just, you know, take it slow…" She leaned back and brushed her blonde curls from her face. "Where is she now, anyways?"

Again the growing sense of dread began to build. Elena had been gone far too long and it certainly didn't take that long to get drinks… A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach curdled. Moving Caroline to one side, Damon looked over people's heads in an effort to see her. Nothing. There was no sign of her, or even a flash of her white outfit. "She said she went for drinks," Damon said quietly, already moving away from Caroline. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. As the sense of dread continued to rise, Damon found himself moving quicker, pushing people out of his way and the "what the fucks, man!" from others fell on deaf ears.

The calmness that had settled over his wings at Elena's dating proposal had vanished. They itched beneath his skin more than ever and he could feel them moving and tugging. For once he didn't care if people saw his skin move under the cloak. His eyes flashed black and white, black and white. The shadows from the party lights only seemed to irritate the demon inside him, and the angel that was screaming for its mate.

Damon gave into his instincts as much as he dare. He allowed the demon some control and allowed his eyes to flicker to blackness. Follow his instincts led Damon outside and the cool brush of the midnight air was welcoming. Sweat dried on his forehead and he threw back the hood of the stupid cloak. As he moved, he shrugged off the fake wings on his back. They only got caught on things.

His keen senses caught onto the noise of scuffling and he followed it, not wishing to know what it came from. Reining back the demon inside him, Damon's eyesight returned to normal. The lights from the house lit up most of the way. Damon's footsteps left no sound. Beside the scuffling sound, the only noise was of water droplets that dripped from the leaking drain.

As he rounded the corner, Damon froze in horror. Elena was pinned to the side of the house, and a boy with blonde hair held her there by a knife to the throat. Elena's face was pale and the side of her nurses outfit was torn to expose his flesh and the side of her bra. The boy's trousers were unbuckled, the silver buckle of his belt gleaming in the light. His intents were clear.

And Damon lost all control. Pain radiated from his shoulder blades but he didn't care. There was a horrific tearing noise as his wings broke through the thin layer of his skin and blood splattered the white paint of the house in a ghastly picture. Fabric fell to the floor and settled around his feet and in his wings. Again and again his vision flickered and blurred before finally settling on the mere outlines in front of him.

A snarl of outrage left him as he stalked forward.

**Angel of Death**

Elena moved through the crowds, making her way over to the drinks table. Damon had insisted that he should get them, but she'd said no. it wasn't about him being a gentleman, Elena wanted to know how she could handle being around large groups of people – mainly guys – again. And what better way to do that than the booze table? A large number of guys, the school football team, were crammed around the table.

Moving through them, Elena grabbed two red plastic cups before reaching for the vodka. So far so good… None of them had noticed here and none had attempted to speak to her. All was going well-

Something sharp and pointed prodded her in the small of her back. Elena attempted to turn, readying to scowl at the person behind her. But then another hand entangled in her hair and pulled her head to the side. Hot breath fanned over the side of the face as the person whispered in her ear; "don't make a sound, or cause a scene, or try and call for help, Eleanor. Otherwise this will be in your back." Mikaelson: the use of her nickname was the giveaway. The pointed object poked into her back again. A knife. She'd been all too close to one of them before.

A small shove in the middle of her back had her moving forward. As she went past the table of football players, she tried to communicate to them but they only cheered as Mikaelson lead her past. All of them were ignorant to the knife in her back.

Mikaelson led her through the house and into a quiet corridor. The noise from the overloud music dimmed dramatically as he forced her through the house. Fear began to settle in her stomach and a cold sweat broke out over her arms and prickled on her forehead. She tried not to think about it. Elena really did try… But the flashbacks came back worse than ever.

The sadistic curve of the blade…

Tyler's eyes, morphed into a monster's by rage and envy…

The feel of the cool steel at her throat…

The sound of tearing fabric…

Before she could push the memories back into the depth of her mind, it was too late. She was outside, the door shut behind her and severing her from all the others. There was nothing she could do now…

Mikaelson pushed her against the wall, the knife instantly biting into the soft flesh of her throat. In the limited light, the blade gleamed and glinted wickedly, the curve of its blade seeming to spite her. It pricked at her skin and she felt droplets of blood run down the smooth column of her throat.

A sharp clanking of metal snapped her away from her own predicament. Elena looked in front of her, her wide brown eyes locking with those of her attacker. Cold, calculating blue eyes stared back. Mikaelson's other hand was down on his fly, the clanking noise had been his belt. The length of leather fell open as if to emphasise and draw her attention to his hand pulling down his zipper.

"I'll finish what Tyler started," Mikaelson ground out, his words rough. "If he couldn't fucking kill you, I will, you demented bitch!" His speech was deranged and wild eyes stared back at her. A sweaty palm held the knife at her throat and shallow scratches from the knife nicked her. His hand was shaking. "You've done nothing but humiliate me, you slut. But it ends here. You're mine, and you'll die at my hands!"

Her fear redoubled and transformed into the terror she'd felt at Tyler's hands. Again and again the note flashed through her mind, the other boy's warning: the warning about Mikaelson and not going anywhere alone. If only she'd listened to him. As the week had passed Elena had grown more comfortable again. She'd stopped looking over her shoulder.

And it had cost her. She should have asked Damon if he would come to the table with her. Elena should have stayed with him and none of this would have happened.

A sharp tearing of fabric made her cry out in fear. Finally the tears began to spill and she begged like she'd done with Tyler. "Please, Klaus! Please, don't do this! You don't mean this!"

"You don't know what I want or mean, you stupid fucking bitch!" He shouted back, his face contorting with anger. Elena tried to shove him back, but when she did, she felt his hand on the knife tense and he leaned forward more. "Try that one for time and I'll rip your fucking throat out!"

A loud growl from Elena's left had them both snapping their heads up. She heard Mikaelson swear under his breath before dropping the knife to the floor. Elena watched as he took a second look at the figure, and then a third and then a forth. It was like he couldn't believe his eyes. And neither could she.

The creature – for it wasn't human – was hidden in the shadows, Its face covered. Large wings (wings!) spanned out from its back and a thick liquid dripped from them. As it stepped forward, the dim moonlight graced over its right wing. Tattered, torn feathers were illuminated and black scraps of fabric clung to his wings. His. It was definitely male. Its muscular torso was exposed. The thick liquid dripped to the floor, the sound echoing.

Blood. Elena swallowed as she felt bile rise in her throat.

In front of her Mikaelson scurried backwards, falling as he tripped up. "Oh fuck! Fuck! What the fuck is that?" he had the nerve to ask her. But Elena couldn't answer. Her gaze was fixed on the creature in fear, wondering what it would do. Its face remained in the shadows as it stepped forward.

It went straight for Mikaelson. It was too much like her dream and even when its wings neared her they shied away as if they wouldn't touch her. A pale hand shot out to clutch at Mikaelson's throat and pull him up to his feet. A choking sound filled the alleyway and Elena watched with wide eyes and Mikaelson scrambled furiously against the creature. Every kick that landed on it made no impact. The creature didn't even wince.

Mikaelson's fingernails attempted to gouge into the creatures arm, scraping and scratching in a hope that it would let go. It wouldn't She saw his eyes widen and his lips start to part as he gasped…

It was too much like her dream. The creature was straight out of this and without even knowing it, she whispered "Angel of Death." As if he could hear her words, Mikaelson became paler, his efforts redoubling. Elena's breathing came in shallow pants and her feet remained frozen to the spot-

There was a rush of air in front of her and a snarl. Glancing up, she saw Elijah standing in front of the creature. Elijah? What the fuck? She leaned against the wall, shaking her head. Oh God! Was he really that stupid as to go near that creature? But as she gazed on, she saw Elijah's eyes change. Capillaries around his eyes darkened and as he spoke she saw two fangs extend.

The bandage on Matt's neck, the one she'd seen while shopping, flashed through her mind. What kind of fucking town was this? Her thoughts were incoherent and she shook her head faster. Lord she was dreaming! Please say she was dreaming! Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to break through her rib cage.

There was another snarl in front of her and she saw Elijah muttering to the creature. Did they know each other? Oh God, she was going to faint. This whole night was messed up!

A sickening crack filled the alleyway as the creature threw Mikaelson into the opposite wall. His bones creaked and his head hit the bricks with a terrifying thud. He slumped to the floor, blood dripping from a cut on the side of his face. Was he dead? Was he unconscious? Was he dead? Oh good God he couldn't be dead! He couldn't be dead! She couldn't be looking at a dead body!

A small whimper came from her lips, attracting both the creature and Elijah attention. As they turned towards her, Elena screamed. She screamed and she screamed at the creatures face. Her feet were suddenly unfrozen and she was moving. Elena backed away from both of the creatures, the things, the freaks, the murderers. Her mouth was wide and the sound just kept coming and coming. It hardly felt like it was from her…

Those eyes! Those soulless black eyes from her dream were there! In that creature's handsome face, a face she thought she could trust. A face she had grown to secretly love…

Damon Salvatore stared back at her with depthless dark eyes.

**Hey up! Hope you don't hate me for the ending! Please, don't! Seriously though, I am amazed at the response Angel of Death had gotten. I can't believe it! None of my other stories have ever got a response like this and I would love to thank you all who have put me on alerts, favourites or have taken the time to review! I'd love to know your thoughts in your reviews! I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but I just couldn't wait! :D xx**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Her screams shattered Damon. He couldn't take it, even though his vision was blurred, he knew how she would look. Her skin would be pale, her brown eyes filled with terror and tears and her mouth open wide in shock and horror. She probably wouldn't even realise she was screaming. Damon saw her outline getting smaller – she was stepping away from him…

Oh God! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Damon shook his head and blinked roughly, his eyes returning to normal. But he wished he hadn't. It was worse than what he could have ever imagined. Tear tracks ran down her face, smearing her makeup. Elena's entire body was shaking and she was taking steps away from him, her hands raised as if to keep him at bay.

"Elena," he said softly. "Elena it's me, Damon." Damon bit his lip and stayed where he was. She might be backing away from him…but at least she wasn't running. It was a little comfort.

But she shook her head more and whimpered, her eyes glued onto his face and flickering over to his wings. "You're not Damon… You're not Damon… You're not Damon," she chanted. Elena was in denial, if he wasn't careful he could break her mental state and then… Damon couldn't think about that… He wouldn't think about that…

He dropped his gaze to the floor and focused on his wings. Heat spread across his back as his feathers curled in on one another. There was a sharp knitting sound as his skin quickly repaired itself – his wings now hidden. Only two pale pink scars would be left. Damon looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with the vampire behind him. One look was all that was needed. With a nod, Elijah turned his back to them and walked back to the house. At a thankfully human pace.

Even a vampire could have a heart sometimes.

Only now did Damon look at Elena. He looked human now, he looked exactly like she was used to him looking like. "Elena, it is me. It's me, Damon," he repeated. "You've got to believe me, I'll explain everything. Please, just don't run… Give me a chance." Damon looked over her shoulder, hoping that no one else would be around. No one was… And the pathway was long so she would have to run quite a way to get to a car…

He could stop her before that, if it came to that. Damon wouldn't endanger her near a road when she wasn't in her right mind. He could survive a car crash… But Elena wouldn't.

"You're not Damon!" She said fiercely. Elena wiped away her tears, smudging her eye make-up across her face. Her fists clenched at her sides. "You're a monster… You've… You've killed him!"

Damon's attention was brought back to the boy slumped only meters away. He'd forgotten all about the bastard. Listening carefully, Damon picked up on a strong heartbeat despite the blood that leaked from his temple. "He's not dead," Damon murmured gently. "I can hear his heartbeat. He's not dead. He's alive. He's going to live; he'll be ok."

But the mention of his supernatural abilities seemed push Elena further into shock. She shook her head once more, her brown hair moving softly in the breeze. "No, you're not Damon. He's dead. You're an Angel of Death."

Damon's eyes widened at her confession, and he wondered how she knew. Taking a step forward, Damon watched as she fell slowly to one side, her eyes becoming blank and unseeing. He caught her in his arms as her body slumped and went unconscious…

He pulled her warm body close to his, and raised one hand to wipe away the droplets of blood on her throat. That bastard had tried to… He'd attempted to kill her… And rape her… Anguish flooded Damon's soul for the abuse his mate had suffered and the potential loss of the one he loved. It couldn't happen again… But try as he might, thoughts assaulted his mind. Elena hated him. He'd seen the look of pure unrivalled terror in her eyes. She'd been more scared of him than what she had been of Mikaelson – the one who had held a knife to her throat and attacked her in the dark.

Maybe he'd lost her before he even had her?

**Angel of Death**

When he arrived home, Damon bundled Elena into his arms. If anyone knew anything about what to do then it would be Lucerna. She'd solved so many of his problems over the years… But never had he let her interfere with his mates. Normally instinct would render him too possessive, even for his own mother to help. Only this time he didn't know what to do. Every part of him, even his demonic side, was in shock.

Throughout the car journey Elena hadn't moved at all. Her head had lolled towards the window and her body had been slack and relaxed. The only thing that stopped Damon from truly panicking was her chest that rose and fell at a steady rhythm. And that had left Damon alone with nothing but his thoughts for company. Every outcome he could think of ran through his mind. Maybe Elena would wake up and be all hunky dory and think it was all a bad dream… Perhaps she would wake up, believe it all and accept him… Or she might need time to come to terms with it all… Or she could listen to him, and then report him to Sheriff Forbes for murder and kidnapping… Elena might do none of those; instead she might wake up and run screaming from the house never to be seen again.

Damon had winced at the last thought. There wasn't much chance that she would be perfectly ok with him. That hardly ever happened in the past. Judging by Elena's personality she would hear him out and then decide to either leave him or stay. But there was still a chance she might run with her hands in the air, screaming "monster" or "freak" at the top of her lungs.

"Damon? Is that you?" Even at his age, Lucerna would still insist on waiting up to see he was home safely. Normally Damon would roll his eyes and say that she didn't have to wait up for him. At the moment though, he couldn't be more thankful.

"I'm in here. Come quickly, I need help." The tone of his voice was panicked. Moving Elena so he held her with one arm, he swept away the items on the kitchen table. Newspapers and documents landed on the floor in a flurry of paper. Laying her down on the wooden surface, Damon tried to make her as comfortable as he could. He'd move her to a bed later on once Lucerna had seen him.

"Oh, Damon!" Lucerna exclaimed as she came into the room. Damon glanced up only to look up again as his mother entered the room. She was clutching the door frame with a pale hand and she leaned against it heavily. Her skin was pale and gaunt and had a grey tinge to it. Lucerna's hair, normally her pride and joy, hung limply about her shoulders. "What's happened?"

"No, no! What's happened to you?" Damon asked, moving forward to wrap an arm around her waist. She leaned heavily on him and he dragged a chair up so she could sit on it. "You don't look well. Which is stupid because angels don't get ill. You shouldn't have stayed up-"

"Stop fussing!" Lucerna batted his hands away roughly before pulling herself further to the table. "I'm fine, Damon. It's nothing." But her voice was weak and wheezing. "What happened?"

With a shuddering sigh, Damon explained everything. As he explained it all, he found a weight lifted from his shoulders. The situation was still bad, in fact, it could be considered dire, but now it was lifting. At least sharing it with someone seemed to help. Once he'd finished telling Lucerna everything, she nodded her head thoughtfully.

"You know, this could be a good thing." Damon looked back at her like she'd grown a second head. "At least now she knows. If you explain everything – and I mean everything, about her being your mate – then she'll accept you, Damon. She might need time, but if you explain your actions and what you are then I can't see why she shouldn't accept you."

Damon looked away from her greying face and her pale blue eyes. Something was definitely wrong. "But you didn't see the look on her face when she saw me."

"Elena had barely survived that vile boy's attack. She probably wasn't even thinking straight then, never mind when you turned up." Lucerna stood shakily from her seat, sending Damon a glare when he tried to help her up. "I've given birth to you, Lord only knows how; you were the size of a turkey. I think I can get through a weird little illness."

At her comments, Damon couldn't stop the grin that spread across his lips. If this was just a weird little illness, then she could beat it. She could beat it and return to a healthy, normal angel. Well, as normal as an angel with a half-breed son could be. But he couldn't shake it off. For some reason Damon thought it wasn't an illness. This was something else.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Damon asked as he watched her gently brush back Elena's hair.

"I'm fine, Damon." But her voice sounded tired. "Just give it some time. I'll be back to normal in no time." Her hands ghosted over Elena's body – never touching her, rising a centimetre above her body. Shutting her eyes, Lucerna continued to run her hands over Elena's body, using her own healing powers to search out any possible injuries. A few more moments passed before she opened her eyes slowly. "She's fine. It's just shock. There's a few scrapes on her neck but they're superficial. They'll heal in their own time." Lucerna sunk back down into the chair and rested heavily against the back rest. "Take her to your room, and make sure she's warm. Light the fire and make sure the windows are shut. We don't know what she'll be like when she wakes. I don't want a broken body on my front lawn."

Damon nodded and moved to gather Elena in his arms. Her head turned into his chest and her warm breath fanned over his bare skin. He hadn't even realised he wasn't wearing any shirt. A few murmurs left her parted lips and she turned into his embrace. She was unconsciously seeking him… That was a good sign, right? Her conscious mind might react badly to him but at least her unconscious state searched for him.

"And Damon?" Lucerna called softly from her chair. "Once you've explained everything I need you to come down here. There's something I need to tell you."

**Angel of Death**

Damon laid Elena on the covers of his bed. He rearranged the pillows around her, nesting them around her to keep her warm like Lucerna had suggested. Elena looked so peaceful on the bed, so different from how she was an hour ago.

Biting his lip, Damon sighed before moving around the room. As he shrugged on a shirt he bolted to the window shut and paused as he glanced out over the large front lawn. Everything had been going so smoothly and now… The flames of his life had tenderly licked away at everything he knew and everything he hoped, at Elena and his tender relationship and now there were only ashes left.

Damon stayed at the window for a long period of time. His mind was blank and his wings still itched beneath his skin as if in distress. After a few hours, he'd exhausted all of his thoughts about the Elena situation and his thoughts once again returned to Lucerna.

It was wrong. It was dreadfully wrong. Never in all the centuries he'd been alive, could he remember seeing, hearing or even reading about one of the supernatural becoming ill. And they couldn't die either. They grew and aged up to the age of twenty one and after that they didn't age. So it wasn't a matter of nature taking its toll. The only way they could die was to be killed by a weapon of some sort, and even then, it had to be a deliberate hit by someone who knew where to aim. And from what Damon could see, there had been no blood on her clothing or any sign of a limp. Lucerna had just seemed to age overnight…

Over the horizon, the sun began to rise. Red and orange fingers of light crawled through the darkness, slicing and destroying it, keeping it at bay with a knife edge…

"Damon!" An exclaimed, shocked voice said. It wasn't a shout but it wasn't Elena's normal tone either. So caught up in his own thoughts, he hadn't heard the rustling of the covers as she awoke. When he turned, Damon saw her standing on the other side of the bed, the bed placed between them. "What are you?" Her voice was a whisper and her eyes were wide and red from her tears the previous night.

Damon smiled weakly and leaned against the window. He'd make no movement towards her unless she wanted him to. He'd stay here. He would even attempt to stay by the window should she run. "I think you already know what I am."

"Tell me it's not true." She shook her head in denial.

"Elena, let me explain. Please, you can do as you wish after. Just give me time to explain-"

"Tell me if it's true, Damon," Elena repeated. Her voice was stronger this time and he ran a hand through her hair and pushed it back from her face. "I have to know if I was seeing things or not."

Damon glanced away. He studied the flaking paint on the window ledge for some time. Minute cracks had appeared over the pain from where he'd bolted it in his hurry. He'd forgotten his strength. Raising his hands to the cracked paint, he marvelled in it. Never would it be the same again. Even with a fresh coat of paint to cover the cracks, it would never be as it was before. Elena and he… They were the same. What they had would never be the same again. "You weren't seeing things."

She swallowed visibly. "So you are…you are an Angel of D-Death?" Her voice was strong though she stuttered over his title. "And Elijah?"

"Yes to the first and vampire to the second."

Elena nodded slowly and sunk back down onto the bed. Her gaze never left Damon's. It was as if she couldn't bear to let a predator out of her sights. Wary human instincts. Her face was an emotionless mask. No doubt Elena was hiding everything and keeping everything locked up in her own inner turmoil. "So you really are an Angel of Death."

Damon nodded and waited for her to continue. Precious minutes trickled away as he waited for Elena to carefully organise her own thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to go back in times, to insist further that he get the drinks or at least go with her… But despite everything he could do, that was one thing he couldn't.

Finally, Elena broke the silence. "When were you going to tell me?"

Damon's shoulders relaxed. This he could easily tell her. And it wouldn't reveal too much that might frighten her. "I was going to tell you, eventually. I was going to tell you everything when I thought you were ready, when you knew me a little better. I should have told you sooner. But last night, I didn't know where you were. I panicked. And when I saw you with that…that." Damon swallowed around the rage that was threatening to build once more. "With that vile creature. When I saw that he was going to defile you and that he was going to end your life… I lost all control. And for that I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry for protecting you."

Elena bit her lip. Damon's eyes were drawn to it, wishing she wouldn't bite down on her tender flesh. He didn't say anything. He didn't move towards her. "And Klaus Mikaelson. Is he alive or..?" She left the question hanging but they both knew what she meant.

"He's alive." Despite his best words, Damon couldn't hide the disgust on his voice. The bastard deserved to die. "Elijah stopped me before I could…"

"So, you kill people?" Damon suppressed the shudder that racked through his frame. The way in which she asked questions was too calm. If he looked carefully enough he could see the wild look in her eyes that was barely masked.

There was no other way he could answer her question. "Yes. I can't help it, it's in my nature. I gather souls to pass them onto a familiar which takes them to wherever the dead go."

"How do you know when someone is going to die?"

"My familiar, a crow, will come and visit me. It leads me to the person whose soul needs to be passed on."

"So does this mean you don't purposely kill people?" She was tracing patterns on the bed spread with her hand.

Damon gritted his teeth as he spoke. Oh how he wished he could say that things were different. That he didn't have to admit everything. "I do. I have to kill to stay alive. I feed on souls."

He saw an emotion, not shock because nothing seemed to be shocking her at this minute, cross over her face. For the first time, Damon didn't know what to think or do. Elena had thrown him. An uncomfortable silence pressed down on them as Elena continued to chew her bottom lip and trace patterns on the cover.

"How did you become an Angel of Death? Were you killed or something?" Genuine curiosity flared across Elena's face and through her words. She smiled at him for the first time since she saw the real him. Real hope blazed in Damon's chest and he took a hesitant step forward. "You can sit down you know," Elena said. They both knew it was a test of trust: a test to see if Damon would attack her or not. He knew he wouldn't, but Elena's trust in him was shattered.

Damon moved slowly, not wishing to startle her. Instead of sitting beside her like he wished, Damon stayed away from her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her for any sign of negative reaction.

"I didn't become one. I was born one." Elena didn't ask anything when he paused. Instead Damon tried to organise what he was going to say in an easier way. "I'm of a mixed heritage. Lucerna, my mother, is an angel. My father, Giuseppe, was an Incubus – a demon. Do you know what they are? An Incubus?" When Elena nodded her head he continued. "He seduced my mother in the Fall. The Fall was when Lucifer sided against God, the outcome being that he and all angels who sided against God or were indecisive were out casted. From what I know Giuseppe sided with Lucifer. My mother never made a decision.

"Once the Fall was complete Giuseppe seduced my mother. Him being an Incubus and all, she couldn't resist. And so I was conceived." Damon waved his hand in the air. He looked over to Elena who was watching him intently. Neither made a move towards the other. "Giuseppe then left and so I was raised by my mother, Lucerna. As for why I'm an Angel of Death. I don't know." He shrugged casually. "It could because of my mixed heritage, a decision one of my parents made while I was conceived…or just fate. No one really knows."

"So you have a family?" Elena asked, slowly. The look on her face showered Damon with hope. It looked as if she saw him as somewhat human, as if, by having a family, it made him normal. Or a bit normal at least.

Damon smirked and looked at her. "It might be a messed up one but, yeah, I have a family. I don't class Giuseppe. Lucerna is my family."

"So Lucerna is an angel?"

Damon nodded and took a deep breath. This was it. This was the time when he needed to tell her. "Elena, there's something I need to tell you."

**Angel of Death**

Elena had woken in an unfamiliar room. She'd lie there quietly, listening to the other person's breathing. But she felt the quickening of her own heart. She knew, just by its thunderous beating, that the memories of the previous night would soon flash through her mind. And when memories came she could barely supressed the tears that pricked in her eyes.

Damon, the one person she thought she could trust, was a monster. He'd killed Mikaelson in the alleyway. He'd had wings sprouting from his back. His eyes had been all black, soulless and unseeing. He was a monster. He wasn't human. He was a monster that had somehow gained her trust, played with it like lion and its prey, before showing her his true colours.

And that hurt the most. The trust that they had built up – the fact that he was the first male in an entire year that she had allowed herself to get close to – was now scorched and lying in ashes around their feet. Damon wasn't human. But that didn't matter. Didn't everyone have a monster inside them? Whether it be shown during envious times, moments of anger, or through sheer honesty; did they all have a side that they wished to hide from everyone? But she'd been honest with Damon. Granted Elena hadn't told him her own past…but that was something he could have easily found out himself.

But he hadn't told her, he hadn't even mentioned that he wasn't human. He'd just stringed her along…making up stories that were more than likely false.

And then the fear of Mikaelson's attack and seeing both Damon and Elijah's true forms had been the last straw. She'd shattered and had screamed in uncontrollable denial that the guy she had grown to love – and truly trust – was a murderer.

However, as Damon began to explain more and more – withholding nothing – she began to trust him. Slowly her nerves had returned and she had been able to listen to him. Elena had become to understand him, and then when he had spoken about his heritage, she understood why he was an Angel of Death. He wasn't his fault.

Damon had tried to protect her, he'd confessed this almost immediately. For some reason, despite her attempts to squash it, a feeling of warmth had spread through her warmed her cool body. And then he'd said he hadn't killed Mikaelson. So that was a plus, in a weird way.

So Damon wasn't a monster. She knew that now. But his next words had stopped her short.

"Elena, there's something I need to tell you." He'd looked at her, his dark eyes pleading with her to listen. Damon's hair was pushed back from his face by a repetitive hand motion that he was unconsciously doing. She didn't think he'd realised it, but he'd moved closer. While part of her still wanted to shy away from any of his touches, she found that she couldn't. Or was it that she didn't want to? Elena didn't know which one it was, but either way, she didn't move further away from him, or tell Damon to move back.

"It can't be any more life changing than what I've already found out, can it?" she joked but Damon didn't laugh. He was frowning and lines had formed on his forehead. He couldn't look at her and instead stared at the bed covers that lay between them.

"You know that my mother's an angel, right?" Damon didn't wait for her acknowledgement. It was as if he was easing himself into his confession. "Well, that side of my heritage allows me some control over my demonic side – the side I inherited from my father. It allows me to be like I am now, instead of an Angel of Death constantly. But it also gives me a way out. It gives me the chance of a mate, one that can rid me of my demonic side forever."

He glanced nervously at her, his dark eyes pleading once more. "And I'm telling you this because…because you're my mate."

Everything around Elena seemed to stop. "Your mate?" she choked out, her eyes wide with confusion. How could she be his mate? That was insane! They'd hadn't known each other for long! This was the biggest bonding session they'd ever had and it was caused by an attack and early revelation. She schooled her expression so she wouldn't give anything away. But she couldn't answer him. The silence stretched on and seconds ticked slowly by into minutes.

"My mate," Damon repeated as the minutes of silence became unbearable. "I know it's fast, it's way too fast. I wanted to ease you into all this, and I'm sorry for not being able to do that. But I have to tell you. I don't want anything like this to happen in the future so I'm telling you everything now."

"Have you only ever had one mate?" Elena skipped over his confession. She couldn't build his hopes up just yet. And she needed to think over it all. She needed time, time that she thought, only hours ago, she didn't need.

Damon shook his head slowly and he watched as an unbearable anguish washed over his face. He looked away from her, towards the set of bedside drawers. Elena followed his gaze. On the bedside drawers, was a single portrait beside Damon's watch. The portrait was kept in a wooden frame, angled so it looked over the bed.

It was a charcoal portrait and done of cream paper. In the picture it showed the figure of a woman. She had short hair, presumably dark because the charcoal was darker, that flicked out to the sides. She had a pointed chin but her smile drew all attention away from any other area of her face. It was pretty and showed mischief and excitement. As Elena continued to look over the picture, her eyes fell on the other woman's eyes. Her's were large and dark, similar to her own but more pointed at the edges. The column of her pale neck faded off into the frame. Beside her picture was a name written in a scrawling had writing. _Rose-Marie._

"Is she your mate?" Elena asked softly while part of her wondered how Damon could have more than one. And if she was his mate, wouldn't she have given him the way out? Wouldn't she have cured Damon's demonic side?

"Was," Damon said softly. "I'm not bound to have one mate for all eternity. If that was the case then I wouldn't find her. So, throughout the ages a number of people who could be my mate are born. And will continue to be born even if I claim someone else as my mate. It increases my chances of actually finding one of them." His explanation was lacking in emotion.

Curious, Elena looked back at him, only to see Damon shut his eyes. He was hiding all true emotion. "What happened to her?"

Damon still didn't open his eyes. But in his lap his right hand clenched and his knuckles turned white. Elena wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him but she couldn't make herself do it. Something told her that this was a private moment, that just by asking the question she was intruding on something personal.

Once again the minutes ticked by slowly.

Eventually Damon opened his eyes but his gaze stayed fixed on his clenched hand. When he spoke, his voice was low but emotionless. For some reason, Elena found herself tensing. Whatever he was going to say, wouldn't be good. She knew this, just by the tenseness in his shoulders and by the way he avoided her gaze.

"I killed her," he said finally.

**Hey up! Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter, I wasn't expecting so many! And now I've just replaced one cliff hanger with another…sorry! I'd love to know what you think is the matter with Lucerna and how Elena will react. Thanks for all your reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I like writing it! Please review, they make my day! Thanks :D xx**

**PS, you're gonna hate this as much as I am, but school's starting up again. Which means updates will be less frequent. I'm so sorry! xx**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Damon's words made Elena's flesh crawl.

"You're joking?" she said shakily. She tried to deny what she had heard. She tried to dismiss the words Damon had whispered so emotionlessly. But she couldn't. Try as she might, Elena couldn't push Damon's words to the side. Not when a torrent of memories flooded her mind.

Damon had killed Tyler in her dream. Damon had admitted that he killed people. Damon had nearly killed Klaus Mikaelson. Damon _had_ and _would_ continue to kill people.

So what was to stop him from murdering his own mate?

Even in her own mind, she knew her thoughts were false. Despite the callous façade that Damon was using, there was something beneath that, something he was hiding that showed he wasn't a merciless killer. The muscles in his arms were tense and his hands were clenched into tight fists, his knuckles white with the strain. Dark eyes, so beautiful now that he was himself, were haunted by a pain she couldn't understand. Still, Damon didn't look at her.

"I could have stopped it all," he whispered. His voice was eerily quiet and she had to strain to hear him. Damon's hands unclenched, only to clench into a fist again. "She didn't have to _die._ I didn't have to let her _die_."

He stood abruptly. Damon gestured for her to join him, his eyebrows pulling together in anger when she moved too slowly. Before she could reach out to him, before she could try and soothe him, Damon recoiled from her touch. And that hurt. It hurt more than what she ever thought possibly. But it showed her. It showed Elena that she cared and that, no matter what Damon confessed to, she would still love him.

Damon moved to the other side of the room and Elena knew she had to follow him. She followed him as he threw open the heavy wooden door to the bedroom and stalked down the landing. If she had time, she would have paused to admire the old paintings that adorned the walls. Instead, she scurried after him, her feet clicking in her boots as she attempted to keep up. They passed many doors and only at one did Damon slow down. The door was left ajar and he slowed to look inside but he didn't stop.

As she passed the door, Elena knew better than to look into the room.

They continued through the house, the gap between them widening despite Elena's attempts to keep up. Damon didn't slow to wait for her. He didn't even glance back to see if she was following. The silence between them stretched on.

Eventually Damon stopped outside a dark door. It was plain compared to the others and its dark wood was cracked in places. Damon pulled it open, holding it open for her. When they were both through the door, Damon shut it and continued. The hallway was dimly lit and shadows danced ominously across the red brick. She followed the shadow that Damon's body created, hoping that he wouldn't walk any faster. If she lost track of him here…

"Mind your step. The stairs are old," he said and his voice betrayed none of his emotions. It was like a tour guide showing off an ancient building. Elena looked down at her feet as she walked unsteadily down the steps. They creaked under her weight and they bowed down in the middle from years of use.

Once Damon had reached the bottom of the stairs, he reached out for a nearby light switch. Almost immediately a flickering, naked bulb lit up the room. It was larger than what she expected and Elena thought that it must have been some sort of basement. Like the hallway, it had red stone bricks. Three long wooden shelves adorned the back wall, each stacked with candles, jars of what looked like herbs, small dishes and a multitude of other things. Across from the shelves there was a fire place. Ashes were collected in it and a stale smell of smoke filled the room. The fire hadn't been lit too long ago. Splinters of wood were collected along one of the walls, as if a log had been thrown against the wall.

The suddenness of Damon's voice startled her. Elena had grown used to the quiet, and to now have him suddenly speaking to her again. "I'll show you how I killed her. I'll show you my own God damned memories." Damon's voice was haunted despite the anger that laced through his voice. But Elena knew. She knew his anger wasn't directed to her, but at himself.

She stayed where she was as Damon moved over to the stack of shelves, pulling down four jars and a small ornate dish. A few moments passed as he ground down the ingredients. Damon never looked at her and he never spoke. It was as if she didn't exist. Or, more likely, that Damon was in a world of his own pain; tortured by his own guilt.

When he was finished, Damon handed her the small dish of ground herbs and wild flowers. In the small white dish, the ground herbs had been mixed to create a pale green colour. A sudden blaze of heat made her look over the shoulder. Within seconds Damon had stacked the fireplace with wood and had it burning brightly. Silently, he held out his hand for the dish.

Elena watched with a morbid fascination as he sprinkled the mix into the fire. The flames reared up, ferociously attempting to snap at Damon's hand, only to fail and swirl around the mixture of herbs instead.

Damon turned to face her. The shadows from the fire flitted over his face, highlighting his beautifully dark eyes that were misted over with both sadness and anger. The hand – which held the small dish – shook. In fact, as she looked closer, his entire body seemed to tremble. Finally he licked his lips as if to ready himself. His voice was shaking with all the emotion he had supressed as he spoke. "You didn't believe me when I said I killed her. You didn't believe me when I said I ended Rose-Marie's life early. I'll show you. I'll show you everything."

**Angel of Death**

Damon's emotions were in turmoil. He'd tried to hide them, he had…but now they were breaking free. When tears began to sting his eyes, he persuaded himself that it was from the heat of the fire. But visiting those long buried memories was almost too much. Only Lucerna knew what happened. No one else had any incline. And now, so suddenly, he was sharing all his memories with Elena.

As he sprinkled the mix into the fire, Damon waited for the scene to play out. He knew what would happen. The flames would rise higher and continue to lick away at the powder that Damon fed them. Slowly, a picture would form from Damon's own memories. In it, he'd show Elena Rose's last few minutes. He shut his eyes so he couldn't see the pictures in the fire form. But they only manifested in his mind instead.

_Spring 1471, England – King Edward IV's reign_

_ Spring had come early that year. The grounds had thawed and the rivers were no longer icy. Sufficient crops from the previous year had held off the famine that usually plagued the pauper's houses. It had looked to be the beginning of a good year, a year where all the previous battles of the Cousins' War could be forgotten. _

_ But it wasn't to be that way. Only a few days earlier, Damon – a Duke in his own right – had received a letter from His Grace, the now exiled king, Edward IV. His Grace was planning an invasion, to fight back for the throne he'd lost for six months to the Lancastrians and their king, Henry VI. It was a test of loyalties; would he support the House of York, or become a turncoat like so many others? If he was loyal, he was to muster men – as many as possible from his own lands and kit them with boots and reasonable weaponry for the battle. He would be richly rewarded in lands, silver and gold if he stayed loyal. _

_ "My Lord! There you are! Your servants have told me to inform you that your horse is ready. They are waiting on your presence to begin the hunt." _

_ He turned from the battlements of the castle in time to see Rose-Marie's courtesy. Still, even after a year of courting, she insisted on such formalities. He had yet to hear her speak his name. _

_ She was wearing the new gown he had ordered her – part of courting was to gift your intended. It was ivory, a similar colour to the White Rose of York, with pale pink flowers budding over the bodice. Rose-Marie wore a delicate necklace of pearls and rose quartz at her throat. _

_ "If it's not out of my place to ask, My lord, you look troubled? Is something the matter? I can ask one of the manservants or a maid to remedy anything that is not to your liking." Her voice was soft and polite but her eyes sparkled in the growing twilight. Rose's hair was short and flicked out to the sides, emphasising the wildness and excitement in her eyes. _

_ "I can trust you, can't I?" Damon asked and he knew the answer immediately. Yes, yes, he could trust her. _

_ He'd known that Rose-Marie was his mate from the first time he'd seen her. She'd been in grieving for her father who had died an honourable death during the battle of Losecote Field in 1470. They'd met when Damon had been riding through the town, collecting taxes and greeting the commoners. _

_ Immediately, he had requested her presence as a maid. From then on, he had courted her, taking her for walks around the gardens and showering her with dresses she had only previously dreamed of wearing. They'd spoken at length about different things; about her father's farm, about their loyalties to the House of York and how they thought York would have an easy win. They'd gotten to know each other slowly over the year. _

_ "Of course you can, My Lord," she answered honestly. She took a few dainty steps forward towards the battlements where he stood. Rose glanced at the letter but said nothing. _

_ "There's to be another battle. Our Grace has asked for my support and my men. I will have to ride out; I don't know how long I shall be. I'll returned to you as quickly as possible." He raised her pale hand to his lips, allowing his own to gently press against her hand. Anything more wouldn't be discreet. _

_ She nodded and looked away towards the growing darkness in the sky. "I will pray for your return. You still have to make good on the promise you made," Rose joked._

_ The promise. He'd offered her, within two months of courtship, his hand in marriage. Damon knew it would be a scandal. A maid with a Duke. But he didn't care. Damon would do anything to keep her as his. But he had yet to tell her everything. Rose thought he was human, a normal male Duke capable of only killing by bow or blade. She didn't understand everything he was hiding from her… _

_ And he never got to tell her. _

_ It was the day before Damon was due to leave that the accident happened. It had been a freak accident, one that could have happened to anyone. _

_ Rose had been leading his horse, a large chestnut war horse, to the mounting block. He'd finally, and stupidly, agreed to let her ride it. He'd been there to watch her, to watch the intense pleasure and excitement that would cross her face as Damon finally gave into what she wanted. _

_ Rose-Marie had gone behind the horse, her hand lingering on its hind so it could acknowledge where she was. There had been a loud bang in the stable and the war horse had been spooked by the sudden noise. Damon had seen everything. Before he could shove Rose-Marie from the horse's path, the horse had bucked. Its large hooves had connected with her fragile chest, crushing her ribs. Her body had cartwheeled through the air. _

_ Damon would never forget the sickening crunch as her body hit the floor. _

_ When he'd reached her, Damon hadn't known whether to be grateful that she was still conscious. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth. Centuries later the doctors would have called it a punctured lung or a collapsed lung. Her rib cage was shattered but no blood stained her dress. _

_ "D-Damon," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't move, Damon. I can't-" She coughed around the blood that pooled in her mouth. "I can't m-m-move." _

_ He'd fretted. All that Damon could do was fret. He hadn't been blessed with his mother's healing powers – his angel side wasn't strong enough for them. There was nothing he could do. Lucerna was in Yorkshire with "family". _

_ "Shh, Rose. You're going to be alright. You'll be fine!" Even his own words had lacked conviction. When his vision began to blur, Damon knew it wasn't his demonic side. The sting in his eyes was from salt – tears. His hands shook as he tilted her head to the side, watching helplessly as her precious life blood flowed freely from her mouth. "You're going to live!" Damon's voice cracked and the tears finally fell._

_ They'd planned so much. They'd spoken about their betrothal and their wedding. Damon himself had thought about all the ways that he could show her the real him. He knew she would accept him; there was no doubt in that. Rose was his first mate, the only mate he'd found and he couldn't lose her now! They hadn't even kissed. They hadn't even touched each other but for the linking of arms! There was so much they didn't know about each other. They still had the world to explore!_

_ Rose's eyes began to lose focus – those brilliant brown doe eyes that he had come to love were glazing over. "D-Damon, don't, don't cry. I'll be…fine. Just let me g-go." More blood spilled from her mouth. _

_ He shook his head, vehemently refusing to let his mate go so easily. "Don't speak like that!" With the sleeve of his tunic, Damon wiped away the blood that had gathered around her mouth. "Remember, we said forever. You can't let me break my promise." He was growing desperate, his voice was as faint as Rose's. _

_ Out of his eyes corner, Damon saw the creature that shattered everything. His familiar, the crow, was perched on the mounting block meters away. Wisps of black smoke peeled from its wings, coiling like oily snakes before disappearing into the breeze. Its large beady black eyes focussed on Rose, and it cawed, an awful scavenging sound. _

_ It knew death was near. It had come to give the final death sentence. _

_ "No!" Damon had choked out, throwing his body over Rose's as if protection. "No, please! It can't be time!" He tried to block out the persistent cawing and the fluttering of wings. "Let her live – I'll do anything."_

_ But the crow didn't leave. _

_ "Who – who are you t-t-talking to?" Rose's eyes had gained some of their focus back. She stared back at him. "Damon, it's time for me to go," she said, choking again. A wince passed over her face as pain was caused in her broken ribcage. _

_ He tried to deny it. He tried to prevent her passing. But his body knew. His wings unfolded from his back, painless and bloodless. They spread out behind him, casting them both in darkness – akin to the one Damon felt looming over his heart. _

_ Damon saw her eyes widen and, as he had once predicted, she accepted him. A small smile – filled with pain – graced her lips. "I knew you were different…" she whispered. "I always…knew." _

_ For once, Damon wished that his vision would blur as it would when he was hunting. But it didn't. He could see everything that was happening. Damon watched as the defeat ran through Rose's eyes, dulling the spark that he had grown to love and cherish. "I love you, Rose," he choked out, wishing he'd said it earlier. _

_ "Me…too." Her voice was barely audible. If it hadn't been for his supernatural hearing, Damon would have doubted that he'd caught the two words._

_ It was time. Damon leaned down, hating the very movement and felt acid coat his lips. He tried to prevent the moment but he couldn't. Salty tears ran down his cheeks, splashing down onto Rose-Marie's dress._

_ Ironic that the first kiss they shared, would kill her._

_ Damon felt the light of her soul join with his. The flutter of wings behind him told him that the crow had left, satisfied that its job was done. Within seconds, the life they had planned was over. It was destroyed in one kiss – the kiss of death. _

_ At the Battle of Tewkesbury, the place where both the Lancaster and York armies met, Damon Salvatore wasn't there. He'd replied to the letter, offering his men and gold, but had stated he himself couldn't be there. _

_ While the battle had raged on, he'd been on his knees in front of Rose-Marie's fresh grave placing a White Rose of York beside her headstone. _

"And so I killed her," Damon said slowly. His voice cracked on the words and he looked away as the flames in the fire began to die away, the pictures they formed disintegrating. He stood from the fire, unaware of when he'd sunken to his knees in misery and guilt. "I killed my mate. I killed the one person who would accept me above all others."

**Angel of Death**

"You didn't kill her." Elena was surprised at the softness in her own voice. After watching Damon's memories play out in the fire, it had erased all doubt that Damon was a callous killer. A killer, yes, but not callous. "Damon, she wouldn't have survived. And even if she had, she would have been paralysed." She stretched her hand out to touch his bicep, feeling the chill that had taken over his body. Even when he flinched, Elena didn't remove her hand.

"I killed her. I was the one to let her die. I could have let someone else take her…" Damon gave her a sideways glance and shook his head. With a little throw, he fed the small white dish to the disappearing flames.

Elena turned to face him and their bodies were only inches apart. "But she –Rose – would have preferred that you were there in her last moments. She wouldn't have wanted a stranger. Rose would have wanted the one she_ loved."_

A final shudder left Damon's body before he pulled away. Once again his dark eyes were guarded and his face was calm. "I should get you home," was all he said.

"Damon, wait!" Elena called out, her hand stretching out to catch the sleeve of his shirt. "I'll accept you." The words came out in one breathless rush and despite the quickness of them, Elena knew in her heart that she'd done the right thing. "I'll accept you, Damon," she repeated when she saw the disbelieving look on his face. "You're not a monster, and I regret calling you that. But now, after everything you've told me and shown me…I know you can't be a monster."

"But Rose, I killer her-"

"You didn't kill her, Damon," Elena spoke softly and slowly. She moved to be in front of him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "You didn't kill her, you set her free. You set her free of this world. You set Rose free from the pain she was in. You're not a monster. If anything you're an angel."

**Angel of Death**

Once Damon had taken Elena home, he'd returned back to the home. Elena's acceptance of him had helped to alleviate his mood slightly, but the grey cloud of Rose's death still hung over him. From past experiences, he knew it would take days for him to get over the emotions that would now plague him.

But now he had to see Lucerna. At the thought, her greying appearance flashed through his mind. He hated himself for it, but he'd forgotten all about her because of Elena. Damon had been too caught up with Elena to even spare a thought about his mother's health. But she had something to say to him, something that she needed to tell him.

And try as he might, Damon couldn't believe that it was good news.

When he entered the living room, Lucerna smiled at him though it was weak. "So you didn't forget about your old mother's request," she joked lightly. She sat up straighter in her seat and pushed the book she was reading to one side.

A pang of guilt at his forgetfulness went through Damon. Abruptly he pushed it to one side. There were more pressing matters to attend to. He took the seat opposite Lucerna and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "You wanted to tell me something?"

Lucerna nodded and moved slowly to a more comfortably position in her chair. When she saw Damon rise to help, she glared at him and told him to sit back down. "You're not going to like what I've got to say. But it's too late now. You can't change anything."

Damon found himself swallowing. Oh fuck, this couldn't be good. Had it anything to do with Lucerna's sudden deterioration?

"Bonnie Bennett, the witch, has finished the spell on the Lapis Lazuli ring." Lucerna watched him carefully for his reaction, her blue eyes focussed solely on his face.

Relief. All Damon felt was relief. If that was all Lucerna had to tell him then it was great. Nothing could go wrong! If he had the ring, he wouldn't be a disappointment to either Elena or his mother. He'd have more control. He could choose who should die instead of innocents. His thoughts froze in his mind. How did Lucerna know about the ring? He hadn't told her anything about it. He'd been careful not to tell her anything in case the spell didn't work and her hopes were dashed. So how did she know?

"How do you know?" Damon's voice was breathless and for some reason he didn't want to know. His hands clenched into fists and he ran one through his hair in frustration. Panic began to well up in his chest. "How do you know?" he repeated, looking Lucerna in her blue eyes.

She licked her lips and glanced away. She looked out of the window, at the growing lightness. "She did the spell just after midnight. Just before you came through the door with Elena. The ring you asked for is complete. The spell worked."

"How do you know?" Damon asked and his voice louder than he intended with his frustration. "Mother, Lucerna, tell me. I have a right to know."

"It was my blood that she used for the spell."

Damon couldn't breathe. Suddenly everything came crashing down around him. He hadn't felt like this since Rose had died. Panic, raw panic and sadness and grief and every other emotion related to them bombarded him. Oh God! If it was her blood that Bonnie had used, then it would mean that Lucerna would die should he kill an innocent. His own mother would die because of his own hand! He swallowed, choking back the sobs that suddenly started to overwhelm him. "Why" he choked out, unable to look Lucerna in the eye. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"You deserve better, Damon," she stated softly, her own eyes filling with tears at the state of her son. "You don't have to be like this, Damon. I know you hate the lack of control, so I'm giving it to you. I'm allowing you to be control. I thought you'd be happy."

Damon's anger suddenly burst forth. "How can I possibly be happy? You're my mother!" he shouted, standing abruptly from the couch. His vision flickered becoming blurred and then clear, blurred and then clear. "I could kill you and I wouldn't even know!" Despite the loudness of his voice, his tone was shaking.

Finally Lucerna's tears spilled over. "Damon, my son, please, you've got to understand. I hate seeing you like this. I hate the way you come in, disorientated and confused."

"And that's enough to sign your own death warrant?" Rapid had gestures graced his words, something he always did when upset. He began to pace in front of the window. Damon's eyes were focussed on the floor, not wishing to see his own mother's tears stained face.

"Yes, Damon. It is. You don't have your own children, but when you do... When you do, you'll do anything to see them happy!"

"Even if it means taking their only parent from them?" he spat the words, not knowing what to do with the overwhelming emotions he was feeling.

"If it means they will be accepted by their mates, then yes! Yes you would!" Lucerna's voice was desperate and out of his eyes corner Damon saw the brilliant blinding light of her wings as they unfolded, the slits in her blouse allowing them freedom. He couldn't help but look at her now.

In amongst all his other panic-stricken emotions, he could do nothing but feel the guilt at seeing her distraught face. "You did this…you did this for Elena?" Damon moved over to Lucerna quickly, pulling her from the chair and pulling her close.

"If it means she'll accept you, then yes. I'd do anything to see you happy." She tucked her face into the crook of Damon's neck. For a few moments they stood in silence, clutching at each other. "I saw you after Rose died. I can't see you like that again, my son. I just can't. It nearly destroyed me."

Damon focused his gaze on the living room clock. The swing of the pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth, helped to soothe his nerves. He clutched her slim body closer, his hands stroking soothingly over the arch of her wings. "What if I have to kill an innocent for Elena? What if her life is in jeopardy and I have to do something drastic like that?"

Lucerna pulled away and her eyes were suddenly fierce. "Then you must do it. You must always pick Elena over me."

**Hey up! Angst filled chapter! I'd love to know your thoughts cause I'm generally pretty crap at "angst" scenes. Thank you for all the reviews, I've said this before and I'll say it again; I never expected so many! Also, the Cousins' War is the previous name for the War of the Roses. The civil wars in England were renamed the War of the Roses later on by someone whose name I couldn't find. I think it was Charles…not sure of his title though. If you know, I'd be grateful if you could tell me! **

**Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope you continue to enjoy the Angel of Death and I'd love to know your thoughts in a review! :D xx**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Damon waited till the end of the day to go collect the ring from Bonnie. He hadn't turned up at school on Monday, too worried about Lucerna's health that hadn't become worse, but it hadn't become better either. Even now, as he walked to collect the ring, Damon was having second thoughts.

Maybe there was a way he could reverse the spell? Perhaps there was a way that Lucerna's health could return to normal and he could continue the way he had for centuries. If he'd gone this long without the ring, then surely he could continue? But Elena. Elena wouldn't accept him if he still killed without any conscience. What they had was still fragile. Damon couldn't risk that…

"Damon, come in. I've got the ring ready for you."

Damon ground his teeth at the tone of her voice. It was so casual and promising as if she expected him to go along with whatever amount of shit she threw at him. He pushed open the door more forcibly than what he intended to. Maybe today would be the day when everything came to the top and boiled over. Perhaps all the emotions he'd been bottling up would spill over and he could frighten Bonnie into being able to reverse the cursed ring…

"You lied. Why?" Damon growled lowly, the atmosphere in the room instantly darkening. "It's Lucerna's blood that you used! She'll die if I kill an innocent!" He stalked forward. Damon's wings itched beneath his skin and he could feel tiny tears appearing between his shoulder blades. It wouldn't be long until he lost control.

Bonnie had the decency to look scared. But she didn't move backwards, instead her steely gaze looked steadily back at him. "Good," she said, and her voice didn't shake. There was no hint of her fear in her voice. "Why? Because it will act as a deterrent to stop you from killing innocent people. You wouldn't have accepted otherwise. Not only will you have a conscience to remember your crimes, but your mother will die if you mess up. Her life is now tied with the lives you take. One mistake, and she's gone, Damon."

He'd never moved so fast. In a second his hand was around her throat, tightening over her windpipe. Still she didn't look scared. "I'll kill you," he said lowly, his vision beginning to flicker. "I'll fucking kill you," his voice was harsh and rough with emotion.

"So you're going to kill your mother already?" Bonnie said, her voice breaking slight when Damon squeezed harder. "I'm innocent, remember?" The sparkle of life in her eyes mocked Damon's as his dead eyes continued to stare blindly back at her.

"I don't have the ring yet," Damon said softly. The muscles in his hand began to twitch as if to beg him to choke the life from her or swiftly snap her neck. "It won't affect me."

Bonnie's shoulders began to shake as a small laugh came from her. To shut her up, Damon dug his fingernails into the soft flesh of her throat. Tiny crescents of blood began to slowly leak. "The ring is already attuned to you, Damon. Even if you don't wear it, it will still react if you kill an innocent. There's no way out…"

She trailed off as Damon freed her. Her body crumpled to the ground as she drew in a sharp breath. Tentatively she reached to feel her neck, her eyes seeming to darken when he fingers came away covered in specks of blood.

"Who says I have to kill you?" Damon murmured darkly as he began to pace the length of the classroom. He'd seen the ring when he first walked in. It was on Bonnie's desk, placed on a white cloth. It was chunky and the blue Lapis Lazuli was nearly black in the dim light. "Maybe I could rip out your tongue… No, you might need that for teaching; but I'm sure you manage with one arm… Or one arm and a leg." Damon stopped to turn back to her. "You know, I'm a qualified spinal neurosurgeon. I know where to pop, pull and snap to make you paralysed. I could play with your body like a musician does an instrument."

"You wouldn't dare. Not when I have answers you want."

"What answers?" Damon asked lowly. He hated giving her the upper hand, but he need to know.

"About Lucerna's health. I can tell you why it's failing her at the minute."

Damon schooled his expression. He detested the way Bonnie thought so casually about Lucerna's life. She thought he was the monster for killing innocents. There was nothing purer that an angel. Bonnie herself was messing with the scales of nature by even contemplating the making of the ring, never mind actually doing it. "Go on. Talk while you still can."

For once, Bonnie seemed to follow Damon's orders. Maybe she was more terrified than what she looked. "Lucerna's health will improve. It'll gradually improve over the next few days. The spell used her blood, so it took part of her…I don't know what you'd call it, but her life force. So it temporarily drained her. She'll be back to normal in a couple of days."

Damon still didn't believe her. "You're not lying again are you? Because if you are, then I might put my spinal neurosurgeon skills to the test." He moved over to the desk, grabbing the ring as he did. He placed it on once finger, surprised at the comfortable fit. But he still hated it. He hated how foolishly he'd walked into a trap…

"Remember what I said, Damon," Bonnie murmured as he walked out of the room. "One mistake and she's dead."

**Angel of Death**

It was a few days after Damon's confessions that Alaric _finally_ plucked up the courage to ask the question Elena had been waiting years to hear him say. Jenna and Elena had been sitting at the dining room table, a box of biscuit between them. The room had been filled with sadness as Jenna comfort ate and spilled all of her irrational thoughts to Elena. Not that she minded. Jenna had listened to all of Elena's rants; whether they were justifiable or just blowing off steam. So for once she sat there and listened, nodding her head and 'hmm-ing' whenever she felt reason to. And the biscuits were good. Very good.

So far, out of Jenna's disjointed sentences and worries, Elena had managed to pick up that Jenna thought that Alaric was having an affair. If it wouldn't have been so tactless, Elena would have laughed out loud. _Alaric _and _affair_ were two words Elena had never thought she'd hear in the same sentence. Even the notion that Alaric could be cheating…was…it was hilarious.

Jenna would have to be stupid not to see the way Alaric idolised her. His eyes would always search for her if they were in a crowd. He was automatically drawn to her, and his eyes would sparkle whenever he was near her. They laughed and joked as if they'd grown old together (which they had, they'd been together for what seemed like forever) but they weren't old enough to be old. The only thing Alaric hadn't done was pop the big question.

"And I've heard him talking in the spare room. But it wasn't loud enough for me to hear exactly what he was saying," Jenna continued, speaking around a mouthful of biscuit. "And he keeps saying," she put on a fake voice that sounded gruff and nothing like Alaric. "Oh, don't worry, Jenna! I'll get the shopping' for weeks! How does all of that, not add up to cheating?"

Elena shook her head. It did seem a bit suspicious when it was all put together like that. But even so, Alaric…cheating? It just didn't add up. "I don't think he's cheating," Elena said slowly. "That's not in his nature. And I'd string him up if he was… Or at least get someone taller to do it for me. Face it, I'm way too short to do myself."

"What could he be doing then?" Jenna tapped her foot on the tiled floor impatiently. "There's nothing he could be doing except cheating!" She exclaimed. Jenna's hands began to shake violently, the biscuit she was holding her hand beginning to crumble.

"Maybe he was going to do this?" Alaric's voice came from behind Jenna, making them both jump with surprise. The guy could have the stealth of a hunter sometimes!

They both turned at the same time though Jenna's eyes widened significantly. The biscuit she was eating fell from her hand and her mouth was wide with shock. "A-are you being serious?" she whispered, still not believing the site in front of her.

Alaric was down on one knee, a small black velvet box in his right hand. With his left he opened it, revealing a diamond ring that shimmered in the dull kitchen light. "I tried to prepare a speech, or something, I really did…but… I've forgotten it all. I had everything planned but now, I've never been so nervous in my life." Alaric's voice shook slightly as he asked the next question. Despite Elena being in the same room as them, his eyes were locked constantly on Jenna's. "Will you marry me?"

Unlike proposals in bad sitcoms, there was no screaming. There was no jumping up and down and waving of hands, and bringing down ceiling lights in the process. Instead Jenna continued to look at Alaric, jaw-slacked. Elena could swear she even saw a few flies fly in and out of her mouth.

"You know, if you're going to take this long can I get up from my knee? I might not be that old, but these bones aren't what they used to be…"

"Yes, you silly git. Yeah to both." An face-splitting grin lit up Jenna's face and she launched herself towards Alaric. Her arms wrapped around his body in a suffocating hold. They clung to each other for what seemed like forever. Alaric's hand drew comforting circles on Jenna's back, while Jenna buried her face into the crook of his neck.

Elena suddenly felt like she was intruding on something very private. She stood from where she was sat and took the biscuits with her. As she stood, Alaric looked up. He smirked over Jenna's shoulder and did a thumb's up sign. "_I finally did what you've been telling me to do for years!"_ he mouthed over Jenna's shoulder.

Elena's chuckle drew Jenna's attention to her. She pulled away from Alaric and said, "You know, you don't have to leave."

"No, it's fine," Elena shook her head. "I've got stuff I need to do." She began to walk away, but as she did she heard Alaric begin to call back to her.

"Like text that Damon kid again? We're not stupid. The doors are thin and we can hear all your conversations."

"Speaking of hearing conversations," Jenna intervened before Elena could shoot back another remark. "I heard you talking to someone in the spare room. Who was it?"

Alaric had the decency to blush. He looked to the floor and then to Jenna again. He even looked past her to Elena, as if she would somehow help him escape from Jenna. Finally, he answered. "I was preparing my speech for this." He waved towards the engagement ring on Jenna's hand. "As you can see, that speech went out of the window."

Before they could say anything else, Elena snuck from the kitchen. As she made her way upstairs, she couldn't help but think about Jenna and Alaric's relationship. They got on so well. Everything about them seemed to match up and they reacted to the other's mood as if they were one mind. Any arguments they had (which was far and few between) lasted on a couple of minutes before they both started laughing and the problem was magically fixed. They were so protective of each other. And nothing ever seemed to bother them, they were so natural and laid back with each other…

And Elena wanted that. She wanted a similar relationship with someone else, no matter who it was. She wanted to laugh with them, to cry on their shoulder, to be able to support them and they support her. She wanted to resolve every petty argument in laughter. Elena wanted someone to look at her as if she was the most important person in the world, and not like she was a freak that was unwanted, that brought a ton of baggage to the relationship…

Without even realising she had done it, Elena had her phone clutched in her hand. Her fingers hovered over the screen, threatening to swipe down to the name that could give her everything.

_Damon. _

He'd said that Elena was his mate. So that meant he would do anything for her. He'd accept her no matter what her past, present or future held. Damon, even with his own side, would accept her…as she had accepted him.

She pressed call.

There were a few rings, and then Damon picked up. His voice sounded rough and stressed. She could just imagine him running his hand through his thick dark hair. "Hello? Elena?"

"Hey, Damon," she said, trying not to worry over how he sounded. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." There was a crackling noise as if he was shaking his head. She heard him sigh on the other end. "Well, no, not really. Just some stuff has happened. Nothing you need to worry about. How are you?"

"I'm alright," she said as she looked around the room. Something about Damon's tone was off. Something wasn't right and he was brushing it off as if it was nothing. She'd get to the bottom of that… "I was wondering if you wanted to meet up – but if you're busy then it doesn't matter-"

Damon didn't give her time to finish. "No! We can meet up! It'll give me something else to think about. Is now too soon?"

**Angel of Death**

Elena met Damon on the edge of the forest half an hour later. They'd both agreed on a walk – it was private, and no one would be within hearing distance should any "strange" conversations arise. It was still daylight and the light filtered through the trees in different shades of green. For the middle of November it was surprisingly warm.

Damon was already there when she arrived. They'd agreed to meet by the large oak tree that bordered the forest. Elena nearly stopped in her tracks, just so she could watch Damon for longer. He was leaned against the trunk of the tree, his legs crossed at the ankles. A leather jacket encased his broad shoulders and dark jeans matched it. Damon glanced up as she walked over, his eyes widening for a moment.

Elena didn't know what his eyes were widening for. She was just in her normal skinny jeans with a long sleeved jumper and a scarf. That was nothing special, was it? Unless Damon had a foot fetish or something…that she could understand, the wedges she had on were nice… But Damon and foot fetish? It didn't seem right.

"Hey, sorry about the short notice," Damon apologised swiftly. He pushed himself away from the tree. "You know when you just have to get away? I had that feeling." A look of some sort passed his face and it looked as if he didn't know whether to hug her, kiss her or leave her alone. In the end, he left her alone.

So she took the initiative. It was weird and it made butterflies in her stomach. Elena's hands trembled so she hid them in her scarf. She could do this. She could make the first move…it wasn't anything they hadn't done before. Before she could back out, Elena stood on her tip toes and planted a small kiss on his lips. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she said as she pulled away. "I felt like I was intruding on Alaric and Jenna today."

Damon seemed happier now. He nodded slowly and the earlier look of confusion had disappeared. "Why? Last I saw you were all happy and stuff." Elena jumped when she felt Damon's hand come to clasp hers. When he looked down at her with concern, she smiled back and lifted their joint hands up.

"It was a surprise."

"A good one I hope."

"Oh, yeah. You can hold my hand all you want," she winked as they began to walk. The playful flirty side was coming back out and she wasn't going to stop it. For once Elena would make her mental distrustful barriers fall. "And another surprise was the fact that Alaric _finally_ plucked up the courage to propose to Jenna."

Damon chuckled and he began to swing their arms gently back and forth. "So when are they getting married?"

"Trust me, if it took Alaric this long to propose… They'll be dead and buried before they get married."

"Surely he didn't take that long?"

"He took long enough for me to lose count of the number of years that past." Elena looked over at Damon as they began to stray from the path. When he saw her sideways glance, he reassured her that he wasn't going to abduct her. "If you did that, you'd only end up bringing me back. I'd annoy you after a day or two."

"I don't know about that," Damon murmured as he turned to sit down on a mossy log. "Maybe I should abduct you…it would be a fun backpacking journey."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "Do you honestly see me backpacking? I'm bad enough when I have to use a port-a-loo."

"We could stop off at public services."

"But that wouldn't be much of an abduction would it? People would see me."

"I'd eat them."

Elena couldn't help but scoff and roll her eyes. "You'd eat them? And if you were polite you'd use a knife and fork too?" She took the seat beside him, burying her hands into her scarf for warmth. When Damon noticed that, he took her hands and sandwiched them between his.

"I'd even use a napkin so I wouldn't make too much mess."

"Damon Salvatore's five star cuisine?"

"Totally."

They sat in silence for a few moments. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was just right. Part of Elena was wanting to ask Damon what had happened that he needed to get away from things straight away. But another part respected his privacy… Elena still hadn't told him about Tyler…

"Damon, there's something I need to tell you." She watched cautiously as he looked up. Damon's eyes were guarded and she wondered just how many times people had said that to him. Demons and angles were immortal so he probably heard it quite a bit… How old was Damon?

"Go on…" he looked troubled and the thumb which rubbed soothing circles on her hand stopped. His words brought her out of her thoughts and Elena swallowed.

If she could accept Damon and he wasn't even human, surely he would accept Elena and her ton of baggage? Without delaying the inevitable any longer, Elena began to tell him about Tyler and the day that had changed her entire life.

She'd been walking home from school when Tyler had snapped. Elena told Damon how she thought she could trust Tyler, and that she thought he was a friend, even though she hardly knew anything about him. Damon didn't interrupt her as she continued to tell him how Tyler had tried to rape her while he held a knife to her throat. Instead all he did was pull her close when her voice trembled, squeezed her hand reassuringly when it trembled and didn't push when she paused and started, only to pause again later. It was as if he knew what she had gone through. It was as if he already knew, and knee exactly what to do.

"That's why you don't date?" Damon guessed. Somewhere through Elena's speech, they had moved closer still and her head now rested on his shoulder. She couldn't see his face as he spoke, but Damon's voice was laced with sadness and barely concealed anger. "You let him control so much of your life?"

"That's the reason why," Elena murmured. She turned her head into his shoulder and Damon's unique smell, better than any cologne, enveloped around her. "You're not, you know, annoyed that I didn't tell you sooner? I mean, if you want to ditch the whole "us" thing, you can do…"

Damon suddenly pulled away, a look of shock and disbelief on his face. "You have got to be joking me? I'll give you all the time you need. Just let me be the one to build your trust back up."

"I'll try not to take too long." Elena smiled and moved her hands from between Damon's. Almost instantly she missed the warmth. "Can I ask you something? It's just something I want to try; I know I freaked out last time."

Damon looked extremely puzzled but nodded hesitantly.

"Can I see your wings? It's just…I want to see them when I'm normal and not scared out of my mind."

He looked taken back but Damon nodded. Elena watched him as he took off his leather jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. She frowned when she saw him doing that. Wouldn't his wings just come through slits in the fabric? Not that she minded him stripping in front of her…

As if he could read her mind, Damon smirked and said, "I'd look weird going around school with a ripped shirt. And I'm not a fan of the whole "Stig of the dump" look either." He didn't say any else, instead Damon schooled his expression, closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders.

There was no blood like there was when Elena had first seen Damon's wings. Instead they were clean and unfurled slowly, each feather seeming to grow from the last. Damon's wings were large and blotted out most of the sun light that filtered through the tree canopy. They were tattered and torn but they still look beautiful. As large as they were, they still looked elegant and graceful, each which quivering in the cool breeze.

Elena's heart did quicken. But not in fear. The muscles in Damon's back flexed as his wings steadily beat against the wind. His chest was muscular and a line of dark pubic hair leads into his jeans. A sharp feeling went through her body, a tingling sensation that sent her nerves alight. Elena had never felt anything like it before. Desire. She desired Damon Salvatore. And surprisingly, she didn't freak out about that…

Damon watched her with wary eyes, ready to catch her should she faint or run off through the forest. Elena did neither. Instead she took a few steps towards him, and gently touched the top of his wings. The feathers here were stiffer and brittle, giving structure to the entire wing. Where ever she touched, the feather's quivered and shook, seeming to have their own life. Her fingers skimmed down the rest of his wings. The feathers seemed to mould to her hand, their warmth spreading through her fingertips Elena ran her hands inwards, her fingertips coming to settle on Damon's bare shoulders. She traced her hands back, her nails lightly scraping against his warm, smooth flesh. Yes, definitely desire. And she found it welcoming. Her hands reached between his shoulder blades and gently soothed the large feathers that sprouted from Damon's back.

As she did this, the whole of his wings quivered and shook. She was aware of his breathing quickening and of his breath ghosting over the top of her head. Elena pulled back an inch so she could look into Damon's eyes. They were still normal but the intensity of them seemed to have changed. They were darker, if that were possible, and he couldn't stop looking at her…

"Oh God, Elena. Thank you!" She didn't know what he was thanking her for. And she didn't get time to contemplate it either. Suddenly she was pressed up against a tree, the back rough and cold through her jumper. Damon's face was millimetres from hers and for once she didn't feel scared. And then he kissed her.

It was nothing like their other sweet, short, chaste kisses. This one had passion and desired, and it seemed to tell the other everything. Damon's hands came to rest on her hips, his grip tight but not bruising. Her own hands came to rest on his biceps, her fingers digging into the muscles that flexed beneath her touch. Their lips moved together in synchronisation; nothing was hurried and everything was perfect. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting for breath and their faces were flushed. "Thank you," Damon repeated again. "Thank you for giving me a chance. For giving me the chance to prove to you that I'm different."

**Angel of Death**

"Oh, how much further? If I'd have known we'd have been trekking through fucking woods, I'd have worn wedges and not heels," Katherine complained as she unsnagged her curly brown hair from a tree.

"Do shut up, love," Klaus said lowly. Dusk was approaching rapidly, as was the cause in November. He wanted to get this done quickly. The last thing he wanted was another humiliating defeat at the hands of that bitch and her bastard fuck buddy. If he was caught summoning more of the bastard's kind then both he and Katherine would be dead for sure. "I never said you had to come."

He heard a grumbling behind him. And then a curse as she stumbled in her ridiculously high heels. "Well, I wanted to know that you weren't sneaking off behind my back with that bitch. God knows you seem to have an obsession with her." How hypocritical of her. Klaus wasn't stupid. He knew that Katherine had sucked off more guys now she was with Klaus than what she had done when she'd been single. She'd probably fucked them all too. Hypocritical. Bitch.

Under his arm, he carried a large wooden board. Written on it, in chipped, faded black writing was the alphabet. Beneath the alphabet was the words "hello", "goodbye", "Yes" and "no." In the growing darkness, the writing was hard to make out. As if to warn them, the sharp breeze constantly tugged at the board and pushed them back. Katherine, if she hadn't dropped it, was carrying a wooden disk; something the spirits could communicate with.

If – or when – they contacted any spirits; the spirit would move the disk to the alphabet, of the words, to spell out certain things. Hopefully they would receive a name or what type of spirit they were dealing with. But more than anything, Klaus wanted something to manifest – something that would hopefully make the bastard and the bitch's life misery.

After the attack on him in the alleyway, Klaus had been left with bruises around his throat that refused to fade. Seriously, how hard had the bastard held him? He was only messing with Elena! And the stupid bitch had just stood there and let that freak strangle him! His nails were broken from where he'd scraped at the freak's arm and the swelling from where he'd hit his head was only just going down.

So now he was going to get back at them. He'd make sure something would manifest that could deal with them. That could harm them both in grotesque ways.

Finally, they came to a clearing in the woods. A large fallen tree dominated the space and a few black feathers clung to the grass. Clearly, Damon had been here.

Klaus placed the board down and sat cross-legged on the damp, dewy grass. Seconds later, Katherine emerged from the woods. Her normally perfect appearance was bedraggled. "Oh you have got to be kidding me!" she exclaimed as she saw Klaus sat on the floor. "These are new jeans. Do you honestly think I'm just gonna sit there?" But in the end, she placed the wooden disk down on the Ouija board and perched on the balls of her feet.

He grabbed the disc and placed it in the centre of the board. Without answering Katherine, he reached for both her hands, joining his with hers. The action rocked Katherine back on her heels, which sunk down into the damp soil. Thankfully, she didn't grumble about it. "Shut your eyes," he commanded. Once shed shut her eyes, Klaus watched the disc intently.

It wasn't necessary that Katherine shut her eyes, but it made sure that she didn't watch what was spelt out. She might have cheated on her, and he might not have any feelings for her…but the sex was good. He wasn't about to give that up by scaring her away.

In his mind, he called out to any spirits that were listening. Klaus relaxed his mind as much as he could despite the harsh wind that made him shiver. He watched as Katherine's hair whipped around her face but she didn't move. She didn't even shiver. It was as if she was in a trance. Good.

The air around him rippled slightly. That was the only sign that something was happening. Slowly, almost as if to tease him and raise his hopes, the small wooden disc began to move. It slid eerily over the board, the wood scraping like nails down a chalk board. Klaus wouldn't admit it later, but he flinched at the sound. In his hands, Katherine turned freezing. He risked a glance towards her, noting that her lips – despite the red lipstick – had turned an awful shade of blue and grey.

The tree branches began to rustle as the winds increased. Loud screeching crow noises filled the forest. A shiver, nothing to do with the wind, trembled down Klaus' back at the brutal, scavenging noise. To the left, a twig snapped. He flinched and looked out of his eye corner as a sense of dread and a nervous feeling began to fill him. Oh fuck! What if it all went wrong? He'd seen what the bastard was capable of turning into… What if Klaus got something worse, that killed him and finished the job?

Klaus calmed slightly as a black, shadowy jackal stepped from the bushes. Instead of fur, its skin clung to its bones in scraps and silver-grey shadows peeled from its skeleton. A half-eaten eye, filled with crawling maggots, turned to look at him.

He didn't scream. It wasn't a matter of not being able to. Klaus just didn't scream. It was as if, on some mentality, he'd prepared himself for things like this to happen. For some reason, it didn't come as a shock.

The jackal continued to watch him, its beady eyes focusing on where his heart pounded in his chest. It took a step forward, the tattered muscles in its skeleton stretching and bursting. Instead of blood, more silver-grey smoke escaped it.

The loud scraping, eerie noise was back. He risked a look down to the Ouija board, eyes widening as he saw the wooden disc move over the letter _"s"._ He swallowed thickly, a hint of regret beginning to make itself known. He shouldn't have done this. He had a fucking, freaky jackal thing looking at him through maggot filled eyes.

As if to look for reassurance, Klaus locked eyes with Katherine's now open and glazed ones. She looked unseeingly through him. So he didn't have to look at the decaying jackal, he looked back towards the board. This time the disc moved quickly over the board as it gained energy.

_"Stefan"_ the disc spelt.

Abruptly all wind ceased. It was deathly quiet. Only the slow, thick thudding of the jackal's bruised heart could be heard. Across from him, Katherine finally focused on him. But her eyes weren't the same. They were her eyes, but there was something odd about them. A mist looked to have descended over them and swirled across her pupil. Suddenly, as if awoken from a trance, Katherine shook her head and her doe eyes returned to normal. Only to widen seconds later.

She broke the bond with Klaus' hands, causing the second name that was being spelt out to stop at "_Giusep"._ Katherine shuffled back quickly, her heels snapping and being left in the mud. For once she didn't care about her clothing. She pushed herself back, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream. In shock, her hand shook as she lifted it to point over Klaus' shoulder.

Klaus didn't want to turn. Fear locked in his heart but curiosity won over him. He looked over his shoulder, too afraid to actually turn around.

Two figures stood behind him. One looked younger than Damon, maybe about 16 or 17. His dark brown hair was jelled and styled, unruffled by the sudden wind that had crept up on them. His dark eyes, the same demonic shade as Damon's, stared back blindly. He didn't blink. He didn't say anything. He just stared.

Beside the younger demon (it had dark eyes, and had a strange similarity to Damon so Klaus guessed it was a demon) was an older man. He looked to be in his twenties but his face was lined. Like the younger one, his eyes were dark. He too had similarities to Damon; they shared the same strong jaw and broad shoulders. The same things the younger seemed to have in common with Damon.

When the older spoke, his voice was harsh and demanding. It was more of a snarl than anything else. He took a step forward as he spoke. "Where's my son, boy? Where's Damon Salvatore?"

**Hey up! Sorry for the wait, I've been ill lately. Which sucks totally! I'd love to know your thoughts and like before, if you have any questions, just leave them in a review or pm me! I hope you're still enjoying Angel of Death and I hope you review! Thanks for all your previous reviews, favourites and alerts! Xx :D**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Something was wrong. Well, it wasn't _wrong_ but it wasn't right either, Elena decided as she took her seat in chemistry. Klaus Mikaelson wasn't there. And he hadn't been at school for the past few days either. And that was weird. To say the guy was a dick, he was usually there all the time. She'd seen him come in when he looked green with sickness. Elena had known him come in when he looked like a zombie after a party and a bad hangover. The dude never had a day off.

And now he wasn't here.

And he hadn't been here for the past few days…

Could he have died?

Try as she might, Elena couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to Damon. When they had met up, she'd not only told him about Tyler but about Mikaelson too. And now the kid was nowhere to be seen. Damon had admitted before that he killed people; that he needed souls to survive. So what would stop him from extracting vengeance on Mikaelson? Damon had said that she was his mate – that he would do anything to make her life easier. Did that mean killing her annoying enemies?

Surely not? Mikaelson was merely a thorn in her side. He didn't deserve any more attention than what a passer-by would garner.

Once again her thoughts drifted to another area where she never wanted to visit again. When Mikaelson had tried to murder her, and rape her, in the alleyway, Damon had looked set to kill him. From what she could remember through her hazy and shocked memories, his hand had clenched harshly around the other boy's throat. The only reason Damon hadn't killed him was because Elijah had turned up…

Elijah! Oh God! She'd almost forgotten about him! Damon had admitted that Elijah was a vampire… And she hadn't told Matt! Oh God, she'd left her friend with a blood sucking monster… Elena glanced across the room to where Matt sat. Just lately he'd taken to wearing turtle-necked sweaters. But that could just be because of the cold, right? It was November. But she couldn't persuade herself that she hadn't seen the bandage on his neck.

No, she couldn't persuade herself from that. Elijah was feeding on Matt. But Matt didn't seem to mind. Did he know? Or did vampires have some dodgy mind fuck-up that they could do?

As if he could read Elena's mind, Matt began to walk over. He smiled and raised his hand in a wave, causing one side of the turtleneck sweater to crumple slightly. It revealed a white bandage on his neck. He frowned when Elena didn't wave back. She was too busy focussing on the white bandage.

"Hey, Elena?" Matt asked as he leaned against her desk. "Are you in there?"

She shook herself from her reverie. How could she honestly bring this up without breaking their friendship? "Hey, Matt," she said slowly. She glanced over his shoulder to see where Damon was. It wasn't peculiar for him to be late. He often was. "What did you do to your neck? A soccer accident?"

Unconsciously, Matt raised his hand and allowed his fingers to ghost over the mark. He winced as his fingertips pressed against the wound. So he was aware of it. This meant that, if Elijah had any powers, the vampire hadn't used any weird and wonderful mind fuck-ups on him. "No, it wasn't an injury." Elena somehow managed to cover her shock. She'd half expected Matt to latch onto the lie. "Elijah just got…kinky, that's all."

"Kinky?" Her eyebrows rose.

"You're not the only one dating a hot, not so human dude." Matt winked before sauntering away back to his own desk. When he sat down, he winked at her before doing a "fang" motion to the side of his neck.

This time, Elena couldn't cover her shock. How did he know? Had Elijah told him? Then again, Damon had ratted Elijah out which meant they were now even. She shook her head in Matt's direction. She couldn't believe this.

"You look shocked," Damon said as he sat down beside her. He leant over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before reaching over to get his books out of his bag. Since they'd started dating, Damon's sudden appearances hadn't startled her any more. It was as if they hadn't gotten used to each other. Or that they had somehow attuned their bodies to that of the others. "What did I miss?"

"The fact that Matt knows that Elijah is a vampire, and that Elijah told Matt what you are."

Surprisingly, Damon didn't look shocked or upset. Instead he shrugged as he opened his book to a clean page. "I knew he would. He's always trying to get one up on me. It's kind of desperate really."

"Why though?" Elena asked just as Bonnie walked into the room.

"Old, feud. You know, blood related stuff. No pun intended," Damon said casually, waving his hand in the air in exasperation. Elena could tell that he was hiding something. Something had happened between Elijah and Damon, perhaps before she was even born. As he moved his hand, Elena caught sight of the ring on his finger. She hadn't noticed it before. She'd been too preoccupied with his voice…his face…his muscular arms…his God-like torso…his stunning personality… The list was endless.

"I'm guessing this goes back some centuries?" Elena lowered her voice when she saw some of her classmates look towards them.

"Just a few," Damon chuckled. He turned to face her, his fingers lacing with hers on the desk. A few of their classmates looked shocked at Damon's actions. And the fact that Elena seemed to encourage them. "He tried to…drain me dry a few years back. I was about ten at the time… If it hadn't been for Lucerna I think he would have succeeded."

Elena quickly scrawled down the diagram that Bonnie had drawn on the board. Something about the Ostwald Process. "But shouldn't it have been the other way around? You're the Angel of Death. Shouldn't you be at the top of the food chain?"

Damon shook his head. "There's no food chain. It's survival of the fittest. And I hate saying this, but when my kind is young we're…vulnerable at best. When we hunt we're blind. If anything attacks us then… It sucks." He laughed again and shrugged his shoulders. "But it gets better as we age."

"How old is Elijah then? And is Matt in any danger?"

"I have no idea how old the dude is. He's older than me, I know that. So he must be pretty ancient… Like, when 'living things were developing from microscopic algae' old. And Matt's pretty safe unless he pisses the dude off."

They settled into a comfortable silence after that. At least Matt was safe. That was good.

Around them there was the scratching of pens as people rushed to copy down Bonnie's incredibly scribbled hand writing. She didn't stop for anyone. Bonnie ploughed through the notes, giving no time for questions.

As she wrote, Elena flickered her eyes over Damon's form. His hand moved fluidly over the page as he wrote. Since they'd met up for the walk through the forest, they'd gotten closer. A lot closer. She'd been over to Damon's once or twice but had yet to meet Lucerna. Which was probably a good thing considering all the face-sucking the two had been doing. Even now, in the middle of class, Elena found herself blushing.

Speaking of meeting people, last night both Alaric and Jenna had mentioned about meeting Damon. But would he even want to meet them? She glanced up towards the board again, writing down the few equations that were there. After she was done, she looked at Damon and blushed when she saw his dark eyes focussed on her.

"Damon, I was just wondering if you wanted to… You don't have to, if you don't want to," she spluttered. It didn't help much when Bonnie turned from the board to raise an eyebrow at her. "Meet my parents. Well, I know you've already met them and this could be too fast…but… They wanted to know if you'll stay for dinner, tonight? Maybe? If it's too short notice-"

Damon was already nodding. His dark hair flopped in front of his eyes; his eyes that were sparkling with mischief. "I'd love to. No one has ever brought me home to meet their parents."

**Angel of Death**

Damon raised his hand to knock on the door of the Gilbert house. He paused before he did, instead lowering his hand to smooth out the navy blue shirt he was wearing. He glanced out of his eye corner, checking his hair in the window's reflection. Everything was in place. Good.

For some reason, he was nervous. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since…well, he couldn't even remember the last time. The fact that Lucerna had actually paid attention to his attire hadn't helped to soothe his nerves. Normally she would glance at him and do nothing more. But now she was fussing about, reminding him of manners (as if he needed reminding) and what to do and what not to do. If it had been any other time, he probably would have snapped at her to calm down or back off…but at least she was improving.

Like Bonnie had said, Lucerna's illness was due to the life energy that the ring had taken from her because the spell had used her blood. A couple of days had passed since the spell, and so Lucerna's health was improving. Given a few more days, she would be back to normal… Unless Damon made a mistake.

He knocked on the door to distract himself from his own thoughts. There was no point on dwelling on what was already done. A few seconds passed before Alaric answered the door.

Alaric's eyes narrowed when he saw Damon standing on the porch. A brief, but tense moment passed between them before Alaric visibly relaxed. There was something off about him…something different. Damon quickly looked him up and down, his eyes locking on the Onyx ring. An eternity ring: if the man died of anything supernatural, then the ring would bring him back to life. As if he could sense Damon looking at the ring, Alaric smirked before stepping back to allow him to enter.

"Damon," he said lowly, "so glad to have you here."

"Mr Gilbert, thanks for allowing me here. It's not often I get invited to meet parents."

"Oh, it's Saltzman; we're still planning the wedding." A faint blush stained the tips of Alaric's ears. Damon mentioned nothing about it and he could see that Alaric was glad. This time, Alaric genuinely smiled at him. "I wonder why," he seemed to joke.

And that was it. The ice between them was broken. The mutual respect that all guys seemed to have for one another was formed. As they moved through the house, Alaric was chatting about the latest football results and about the best bourbon. In the end, they both found they had the same taste for expensive, older versions of bourbon. And they would have ended up in an argument about football teams if Elena hadn't shown up.

"Hey, Damon!" Her eyes lit up as she spoke. In front of them, Alaric rolled his eyes before walking through into the kitchen. "I'd have answered the door, but Jenna had me peeling potatoes. Seriously, my hands stink." She grimaced but Damon couldn't contain the smirk on his face as Elena entwined her fingers with his. She glanced into the kitchen to make sure no one was looking before stretching up to give Damon a quick kiss. "Glad to see you and Alaric are getting along. He doesn't seem as growly and protective as he was last time."

"He's a good bloke," Damon said. "And he has good taste in bourbon. Shame about his shit taste in football teams though."

"Oh God! Not another bourbon fanatic! At least I know what to get you for Christmas." Damon blinked at her words. He hadn't thought about the holidays they'd share together and all the small moments in between.

"You know I still haven't thought of that. I'm sort of ashamed…" Damon shrugged his shoulders. "I'll wrap myself up. Then you can unwrap me." He winked, causing a heated blush to flame on Elena's cheeks. Her blush made her soul shine brighter and Damon unconsciously moved closer to her. Elena's soul had more of an effect on his demon side than the ring ever could. Just being near her completely diminished the effect the demon had on him…the ring only stopped it partially.

"Don't bother wrapping yourself up… Unwrapping you would just waste time. Time that could be spent doing other things…" Damon's eyes widened as her open suggestion. Never before had she been so…forward. And he liked it. Elena spun from his grip, throwing a suggestive little smile over her shoulder before leaving him standing in the hallway.

Images flooded his mind… And they weren't innocent. He clenched his fist roughly so his nails would dig into his palm and used the brief pain as a distraction. It wouldn't be good to give that kind of impression to Jenna and Alaric.

"Damon, it's nice to see you again," Jenna said as he entered the kitchen. There were four plates on the table, each filled to the brim with meat, vegetables, Yorkshire puddings and gravy. _Fuck._ He'd forgotten that he'd actually have to eat something. Just the aspect of food was enough to turn his stomach. He hadn't even drunk anything but bourbon for…he'd lost count since the last time he'd consumed anything healthy.

As if sensing his dilemma, Elena looked over at him. She frowned and did a small wave as if to see if he was alright. He faked a smile and nodded. This was going to be fun. To distract himself from the whole eating dilemma, he offered to help Jenna bring the drinks over. As if to mock him, she said no and to sit down and start eating. That he didn't need to help because he was the guest.

So he took the seat besides Elena and waited for Jenna to take her seat beside Alaric. In front of him, the food looked rich and perhaps even tasty – if he was human. Damon waited for the others to begin to eat before starting.

It was as bad as he had feared. The food clogged his mouth and seemed to grow in his throat. Try as he might, he couldn't quite keep a happy expression on his face. The gravy only seemed to make things worse. After the first few mouthfuls, he took a drink of water; for once loving the clean, refreshing taste in his mouth.

"So, Damon, do you have any plans for after high school?" Jenna asked as a way of conversation. Out of his eye corner, he saw Elena look up expectantly. It was something they'd actually discussed together.

He held up a hand, signifying that he was still chewing. A few awful seconds later, he swallowed, making sure to hide the grimace on his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I was thinking of travelling." _Yeah; travelling even though you've seen all places in the world at least three times. _"Or maybe studying chemistry. But I haven't set anything in stone yet, I like to keep my options open."

"Best way to be," Alaric said around a mouthful of food.

"Alaric, remember your manners! You can't just speak around food like a savage!" Jenna exclaimed, flushing lightly as she looked at Damon for his reaction.

"I need to eat!" Alaric shrugged.

"I've been around worse," Damon joked and laughed as Jenna's eyebrows shot to her hairline.

And that was how lunch passed. Slowly the plate of food disappeared, even though Damon ended up getting another glass of water to help it go down.

**Angel of Death**

"You looked a bit uncomfortable at lunch," Elena mentioned as she sat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes roamed over his face as if to look for signs of illness.

"I'm not used to eating food," Damon said slowly as he took a seat beside her. He wondered how she would react; the whole supernatural thing was still new to her after all. "I can't remember the last time I consumed anything human – besides bourbon."

"You should have said. You didn't have to stay for lunch if you didn't want to." Elena glanced away from him and her fingers found her way to the edge of the bed covers where she began to pick at them nervously.

He acted instantly. Damon's hand came to grasp her wrist and bring it between them. Like he had in the forest, his thumb began to stroke circles over the back of her hand. "No! I didn't mean anything like that. I wouldn't have changed it… I just don't eat food, that's all." Even after all their midnight calls, meeting up (they could even call them dates, Damon supposed) Elena still thought he would turn her away… "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Relief washed through him as she turned to him and offered a small smile. "No, I should be apologising. I shouldn't have reacted like that, I never thought." Elena's tongue peeped out as she wet her lips. A blush began to rise along her cheeks.

This time Damon didn't wait for her to initiate it. He met her lips halfway. A quiet shocked sound left Elena's parted lips before she slowly began to relax. Her hands came to rest on his biceps. Damon pushed her down onto the bed gently, before covering her body with his. Before he could stop it, a growl came from him. Beneath him Elena froze and broke the kiss, a comical expression on her face.

"Did you just?"

"Yes," Damon murmured quickly as he resumed the kiss. Something was different. It was the same thing he'd felt in the forest when he'd pinned Elena against the tree: a possessive passion and the need to make Elena his for good. Their bodies fit together perfectly, the softness of Elena's contrasting with the hard muscular planes of his own. Damon rested his hands on either side of her, lifting her body so he wouldn't put too much pressure on her.

Damon felt Elena move beneath him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. She pushed him away but didn't break the kiss. Instead Damon allowed her to roll him over onto his back so she was straddling him. Finally she broke the kiss and Damon smirked at the heated look on her face. Elena's hair fell over her shoulder and her brown eyes searched Damon's. Whatever she was looking for, was there because her smirk grew to match his.

His muscles quivered when Elena's hands began to snake under his shirt. Her nails scraped lightly over his chest and this time Damon didn't even bother to hold back his growl. Her heated touch set his skin alight as his hands came to rest on her hips, holding her in place.

When Elena moved her hands away and began to unbutton his shirt, Damon rose up to capture her lips once more. Again and again Elena's hands fumbled at the buttons on his shirt. After a few minutes, he helped her and she whispered a quick "thanks" against his neck.

Damon let Elena take control. Everything inside him was screaming at him not to, to be able to control her, dominate her, and claim her. But if he rushed her…then it would all fall apart.

There was a crumple of fabric as Elena dropped Damon's shirt to the floor. Above him, Elena stilled for a moment, her eyes roaming over his exposed chest. A few seconds passed and Damon found himself wondering if she'd gone into shock. And then she blinked and that devious, secretive and desirable sparkle was back in her eyes.

Before he could do anything, Elena's hands were at the edges of her t-shirt. In one move, she pulled the fabric over her head, roughing up her hair in the process. Then it was Damon's turn to be shocked. He swallowed thickly, his eyes locking on the swell of her breasts that were held in a black lacy bra. Before this moment, Elena hadn't struck him as the "fancy" underwear kind of girl. But now… Fucking hell!

His eyes travelled the length of her exposed body; her toned stomach, the swell of her breasts and the pale column of her neck and the cascade of brown hair that trailed tantalising down the left side of her body. His hands followed that path over her body, ghosting over her soft creamy skin.

When their eyes met, Damon felt everything that he hadn't felt since he'd first seen Rose-Marie. Love. Love and not lust, though that was there in plenty too. God he loved her, everything about her: her insecurities which needn't be there, her care free attitude, and most of all, he loved her for giving him a chance. A chance to show her that he was different…

**Angel of Death**

He needed to hunt. The time spent with Elena had slowly whittled down his control. Beneath his skin, Damon felt his wings begin to itch and move. They ached to be free. When he reached the edge of the forest, Damon sliced two slits in the back of his shirt. Where he was going, it would be hard to explain why he was shirtless if he was caught.

As he reached the edge of the forest, Damon allowed his wings to unfurl. As Bonnie had said, there was little pain. The ring had managed to pacify his demonic side, which meant that his heritage would no longer battle for dominance. It was as painless as it could have been. And there was no blood either.

Damon glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see a change in his wings but the same, tattered and worn wings looked back at him. With a sigh, he continued through the forest.

But there was one good thing that came out of wearing the ring. Damon wasn't blind. Not once had his vision flickered or been impaired which meant that his demonic side was totally at bay. And he'd managed to keep control of himself. He hadn't given into the demon and allowed it control. In other words, he still had a conscience.

Half an hour later, Damon walked out of the forest. He brushed any dirt from his jeans and fixed his hair as he walked past shop windows. This was the central area of Mystic Falls. Above him the dark sky was starless, instead filled with impending clouds.

Damon hurried his steps, pausing only when he reached his destination. Mystic Falls police station. He tested the door lightly and when it didn't budge he applied more pressure until the lock within gave way. Surprisingly, no alarm sounded. Small towns, little happened in them so nobody every decided to prepare for anything out of the ordinary.

He shut the door behind him quietly, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. All lights in the main area were off. In seconds Damon's eye sight accommodated for the lack of light. Beside the desk was a door that was slightly ajar, a line of light spilling into the room. Damon walked towards it.

When he opened the door, it squealed in its hinges. Quickly, he slid through the gap and shut it behind him. Any noise from the jail would only cause someone to come running. He waited a few seconds, tense in case anyone would come looking. But no one came.

Frowning slightly, Damon continued to walk through the jail. In one corner, a guard was slumped asleep in a wooden chair. So much for security…

Rolling his eyes, Damon paused outside the first cell his came to. A woman was asleep on the hard wooden bed, her body curled in on itself. Her blonde hair was grimy and her fingernails were chipped. On the far wall, Damon could see multiple engravings: the number of days she'd severed? Or the number of months? She looked to be in her middle age…so it could be months…

She tossed and turned in her sleep, her arms stretching and her hands grasping for something, or someone, who wasn't there. As she turned, Damon saw the woman's face. He recognised her instantly from a new report he'd seen on the television ten years ago. Alexis Johnson – imprisoned for life for the murder of her own child and for the paralysis of its younger brother.

Good; she was anything but innocent.

Damon raised his hands to the steel bars that barred her from him. His fingers wrapped around the bar and with the slightest of pressure, the bars began to give way. When the gap was large enough for him to fit through, Damon wasted to no time. He slid through the gap, cursing when the edge of his wing got stuck. With a quick tug it came free.

He made no noise, but as he neared, the Johnson's eyes flickered open. For a second he stared at him hazily with sleep filled eyes. But upon seeing his wings, her eyes widened. A hand came up shakily to her mouth. Her head shook back and forth in denial as Damon neared her.

"What are you?" She asked, pushing herself against the back wall. For some reason she made no loud noise – nothing to attempt to alert the sleeping guard. It was as if, despite her shock and obvious fear, that she had been waiting for him.

"An Angel of Death," Damon said lowly, taking the final step towards her. Johnson quivered in her bed but edged forward nonetheless. "And I'm here to reunite you with your dead child."

His words caused her to go pale. All colour drained from her face and she looked about faintly as if looking for the child's ghost. The hand that was by her hand lowered and stretched out towards him, shaking so badly that the outline blurred into whiteness.

When she opened her mouth to speak, no sound came out. But Damon didn't wait. He didn't care for her last words. He bent down, gracing her wizened lips with his own. Already acid was coating his lips, ready to severe the strings that attached her soul to her body.

Normally he would coax the soul from the body. This time he didn't. This time he didn't have the patience nor did he care for the woman. Instead, he yanked at the soul's strings, snapping them and making the woman's body spasm against his. A silent scream came from the soul but still he continued to snap and fray all connections it had with her body. With a final brutal tug, all strings snapped. Johnson's body shook and contorted one last time before slumping onto the bed with a thud.

Moving back, Damon wiped the back of his hand against his lips to rid himself of any remaining acid. He glanced down to the woman and felt nothing as her accusing, pain filled eyes stared blankly forward.

Before the guard could wake, Damon slipped from the police station.

When he neared the forest again, Damon decided to take the longer route. His wings needed to be free for a longer time and the darkness felt nice around them. It was once time where he didn't have to hide what he was. As he walked, Damon thought about the eventful dinner he'd had at the Gilbert's house. Or more to the point, what had happened after the dinner.

They hadn't gone all the way. Elena had frozen up before they had taken any more clothes off. So instead they'd stayed at the same stage they were at before, when she was most comfortable. The smile she'd sent his way had thanked him and he'd been happy enough to comply. Just the feel of her being open with him and so trusting was enough…for now; even if he had wanted to possess her and make her his.

Even remembering their time together set his nerves alight. This was why he was thankful for the straining creaking noise that distracted him. Damon looked around the woods cautiously, part of him expecting Elijah to pop up and attempt to drain him again.

What he saw was far different from Elijah. On the branch of a large oak tree, a body swung, suspended only by a length of rope. The man's head was lolled to one side at a crooked angle and a large red rope rash flared around his neck. His eyes had bulged with the strain of the rope, causing small streams of blood to run down his cheeks.

Suicide. But why? Damon walked up to the corpse, slicing easily through the rope with one fingernail. The body fell from the oak, and Damon caught it in his arms. He felt more respect for this corpse than the freshly dead body back in the jail cell.

But as the corpse touched him, Damon was assaulted by thoughts. The thoughts were of the last few moments before the man had killed himself. His thoughts had been incoherent and horrific. Through the man's eyes, Damon could see deadly jackals advancing on the man. Their skin was hanging from their skeletons and silver grey smoky wisps left them. Half eaten eyes were filled with glee as they advanced on the man.

The last moments shifted abruptly. The man had obviously been thinking about his torture. Nightmares flooded Damon's own mind and the man's terror began to fill him too. He'd been haunted by nightmares. But not just any nightmares – these had a darker, more demonic sense to them.

The only person who could have done something like this would be Elijah. The compulsion that all vampires had could be used to make a human go insane… But as soon as Damon thought about Elijah, he knew it was wrong. Why would Elijah want someone to commit suicide? He would want the blood for himself…

So that would mean that someone new was in town. Another demon was intent on making the citizens of Mystic Falls insane with night terrors. An Alp; it had to be an Alp. They were the only demons able to conjure nightmares to such intensity that they would slowly send someone delirious and then, eventually, insane…

And all Damon could think about was protecting Elena. He would do anything, to anyone, to protect her.

**Hey up! Sorry for the two week wait, life has taken me away from the computer which sucks. Anyhow, thank you for all your reviews on the last chapter! They mean the world to me! And I'd love to know what you think on Delena, and what about the new demon in town? I'd love to know your thoughts!**

**The Nutty One xx**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

"You look…different today," Caroline commented as they took their seats in Starbucks. "I don't mean you have a second head or anything, but there's something different about you." She took a sip of her coffee, peering over the rim of the cup at Elena.

Elena shook her head, a slight smile on her face. "No, you must be seeing things. I haven't changed make-up or gotten my hair cut…"

"No, I don't think it's anything physical…you just…I don't know!" She threw her hands in the air dramatically, her blonde curls flying with the movement. Suddenly she paused and a large smirk began to grow on her lips. "I do know… You've been with Damon haven't you?"

Still Elena felt confused. Before answering she took a bite of the muffin she had bought. Caroline made a noise of impatience and did a frantic hand gesture to attempt to speed Elena up. "Course I've been with Damon. We're dating, it would be a bit weird not to meet up," Elena said evasively. She knew what Caroline was getting at – she wasn't naive. But it was nice to hold the gossip for once…

When Caroline scowled at her, she couldn't help but grin. God, she was so easily annoyed. "Tell. Me. Everything!"

"No, I haven't been with Damon…we just…made out… That's all." Her grin seemed to grow as she spoke. Elena couldn't control the images (not that she wanted to) that flooded her mind. The weight of Damon's body above hers had felt so right, and so utterly and completely different to how Mikaelson's and Tyler's had felt against hers. It felt right. And the feel of his body beneath hers when she'd straddled him… And the growl that had come from him; she'd had so much effect on him that he'd lost control of his primal instinct. And that was hot. Very hot. Elena had felt claimed in a bizarre, hot, fire-tingling way.

"Judging by that grin, that is not all that happened!" Caroline exclaimed. By this point she was leaning forward on her elbows, her eyes sparkling. Her coffee was pushed to the edge of the table, millimetres from spilling to the floor. "Come on, what was it like? I'm gonna say this, because it's what I think – but I'm not hitting on him! But if you break up, give him my number!" She winked jokingly. "He's a total hottie! Was he an awkward hottie or a Fred Flintstone that can make your bed rock?"

"Caroline!" Elena mockingly scolded, but ended up laughing. "Between me and you, he's more than a Fred Flintstone!"

Caroline laughed, rocking back on her chair. But as she did, her elbow knocked her cup of coffee from the table. Immediately a look of shock graced her face and a fast "oh shit" left her lips. But before she could do anything, or much coffee was split, a hand flew out and caught it.

Both Elena's and Caroline's eyes simultaneously snapped up to view the coffee saviour.

Tall, dark and handsome…but not as good looking as Damon, Elena added as an afterthought. His dark brown hair was jelled up off his face, and even his pale skin looked healthy under the harsh fluorescent light of Starbucks. His eyes were dark and similar to Damon's. Elena frowned at the stranger… He looked similar to Damon. If she knew Damon didn't have a brother, then she wouldn't have thought that this guy was Damon's brother…

"Here's your coffee," his voice was deep and seductive and by the blush that lit up Caroline's cheeks, the guy was clearly having an effect on her. "The table is big enough. That was kind of clumsy, don't you think?"

"Y-yeah," Caroline stuttered, causing Elena's frown to deepen. Caroline never stuttered in front of people. Much less guys. And she never blushed much either, she was unaffected by anything like that. "Thanks. I'd have hated to have to mop it up. That would have been embarrassing." Again she stumbled over her words.

"I'm Stefan, Stefan Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, Caroline."

Elena didn't worry over how the stranger knew Caroline's name. She was more focussed on his surname. Salvatore. Stefan Salvatore. Damon Salvatore. Surely there weren't many Salvatores? What was the chance that they could be related? Had Damon lied? If so, why would he lie about having a brother? Unless…

Elena looked back at Stefan, or more closely, his eyes. He'd already taken a seat beside Caroline and was leaning back casually on the chair. Stefan looked human… But as she looked into his eyes, Elena couldn't control the gasp that escaped her.

Stefan's eyes were black, a deep midnight black. They were darker than Damon's own. A cloudy film covered the surface of his eyes. It was almost as if he had cataracts. The more she looked at him, the more Elena noticed that he never focussed his sight on any specific area. It was always as if he was looking through the person. As if sensing her stare, Stefan's gaze flickered to her. And it pierced her soul.

A cold chill shuddered her body and Goosebumps instantly prickled along her arms. How could Caroline not feel that? But try as she might, Elena couldn't look away. Stefan's midnight eyes seemed to strip everything away and she felt naked beneath his gaze. It was in that moment, that she knew that Stefan wasn't human.

A demon. A demon was sat at their table in the middle of Starbucks, flirting with her best friend.

Elena quickly swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. From what Damon had already told her, she knew demons were blind. At least when Damon hunted he was. But Stefan looked at them, even though he looked through them at the same time. Maybe he detected the heat signatures?

She watched as his iris' seemed to widen. As they did, Elena felt a rush of hot desire flush through her. It was a feeling she'd only felt when with Damon. And it wasn't right. Elena tired to shake her head to clear her thoughts. She tried to look away. But she couldn't. She even saw her hand reaching out towards him, and her body was seconds away from moving closer to his, to sitting on his lap and doing God only knows what – when Caroline interrupted.

Abruptly, Stefan tore his gaze from Elena's. Instantly, the red hot passion disappeared from her body. She was breathing hard, her chest heaving. Out of her eye corner she saw Caroline looking at her curiously. A minuet shake of her head, told Caroline that she was fine. Elena hastily ran a hand through her hair, the pain caused when her fingers snagged helped to keep her grounded.

Through glazed eyes Elena saw as Caroline began to shamelessly flirt with Stefan. There was nothing weird about that. Caroline did that with any male who would give her the time of day. But what Stefan had done to her, was not normal.

Demon. Stefan was a demon. But he wasn't just any demon. _Incubus, _her traitorous mind whispered. _He's an Incubus. _An Incubus was a sexual male demon, able to conjure feelings of desire in anyone it wanted to. At least that explained everything that she had felt.

When Stefan's eyes flickered back to hers, Elena shook her head. "We're going, Caroline," she said quickly, gathering her bag as she did. "Remember? We have a bus to catch?" Elena saw Stefan's eyes move between the two of them. He knew she was lying. As did Caroline.

"Elena, we don't have a bus-"

"I want to go home, I don't feel well," Elena said quickly, building up another excuse. Her voice was slightly louder than it needed to be, gaining the attention of a table beside theirs. "Please, Caroline."

Caroline nodded and stood, saying goodbye to Stefan as she did. Even in her dazed state, Elena didn't miss the scrap of paper that Caroline passed Stefan. Her number. Dear God, the bastard had her number. Before she could see any more, Elena began to walk through the coffee shop, towards the door.

But she didn't make it, before Stefan called. "Good bye, Caroline and Elena."

The sound of her name on his tongue sent shivers down her spine. And she had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time that she saw Stefan. And by the chuckle that she heard, he didn't plan it to be the last time either.

**Angel of Death**

Midnight was drawing closer. Good. Damon would be more likely to find the vampire in its natural light. He'd found the body in the woods yesterday, and had almost immediately ruled out any connection between Elijah and the suicide. But he had nowhere else to start. The only thing he knew was that a Demon was in Mystic Falls. But who was the demon? What type of demon? And what threat did it pose?

And he thought, or hoped, that Elijah might have more information than he currently did. And it curled Damon's stomach to admit that he needed the vampire's help. But the threat to Damon and Elena would possible be a threat to Elijah and his human pet. Especially if the demon was male - vampires were territorial and possessive; it would be unlikely that Elijah would take kindly to any threat focussed on his walking talking blood bag.

So that was why Damon had found himself outside the vampire's mansion. Seriously, why the fuck did the dude work at Starbucks if he came home to this? Maybe Elijah's mind compulsion was fucking up his own mind.

He didn't bother with the doorbell. Why alert your enemies? No doubt Elijah had already heard his heartbeat anyway. Instead he twisted the handle, a part of him amazed as the door swung open so easily. Even for a supernatural being, basic home security was normally used. Idiot. Wanker. Blood sucking parasite-

Damon would have continued to insult the vampire, if he hadn't been thrown against a wall. A white hand clutched at his equally pale throat. Elijah's fingernails created half mood shapes that broke the surface of Damon's skin. His fangs were down, gleaming in the dim light like two blades. The vampire within Elijah was already free, causing black capillaries around his now red eyes.

Within him, Damon felt his own heritage react to the danger in front of him. His wings tore through the skin on his back, the Lapis Lazuli ring numbing the pain that would usually be there. Silver shadows came from his wings and mist beginning to swirl around Elijah's feet. On his lips Damon could taste the tangy acid.

Seconds later, Elijah let him go. The vampire stepped back a bit, allowing Damon to catch his breath as the wounds on his neck healed. "Damon Salvatore. To what do I owe the pleasure? Or the lack of it?"

"Straight to the point I see," Damon muttered, running his fingers over the marks on his neck. Good, they were scabbing over already. "What kind of home welcome do you call that? No wonder you're pet blood bag is always covered in bandages."

The growl that came from Elijah was enough to tell Damon that that particular topic was off limits. But it would do for a later time - when he didn't need the vampire. "And as always, you continue to try and sugar coat things," Elijah stated as he moved across the room to one of the couches. Just the fact that he had turned his back on Damon showed how cocky the vampire was. Don't ever leave your back open to the enemy.

Damon sat on the opposite couch to Elijah and declined the drink of bourbon that was offered. "You never do change, do you?" Elijah stated as he took a drink from his own glass. He crossed his legs at the ankles and reclined on the sofa in a near perfect impersonation of a human. "Why would I choose to poison you when I could have torn your heart out moments ago?"

"Poisoning is more fun. It won't kill me but you'll be able to see me squirm until you put me out of my misery." Damon took a moment to study the room around him. There was a large fire place, marble, that had a roaring fire blazing. That again showed the vampire's cockiness. From experience a couple of centuries ago, Damon knew that vampires were highly flammable. They went up in flames the same way a petrol tank would. There were a few book cases, filled with tattered volumes. But Damon wasn't one to let his eyes wonder for too long. Not when a vampire sat in front of him. "I need to know if you know anything about the suicide in the woods. I came across a male body yesterday."

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "You think, just because I'm the only life taking creature in Mystic Falls besides yourself, that it was me?" He even had the nerve to chuckle. When a low snarl came from Damon, he soon sobered. Good. The vampire would at least treat him with respect from now. "Humans are too fragile: they always think the world is against them. It was probably just a suicide. They occur all the time."

Damon found him shaking his head. And he found himself wishing he had taken Elijah's offer of a drink. Instead of asking for a glass, he reached and grabbed the bottle from the coffee table. He raised it to his lips, a smile gracing them as Elijah scowled at his obvious lack of etiquette. "I know they do, but this was different."

"How so?"

"When I came across the body I saw the last few moments of the man's life. Madness. Total chaos." Damon barely held back the shudder as he recalled the images he'd seen from the corpse's body. "A demon did that to him. The familiar was a half eaten jackal, and the victim's dreams had been distorted to such a level it sent him insane. But all blood was left."

"Perhaps it was one of your kind?" Elijah asked. "Certainly it wasn't a vampire. If the man had been drained then it could have possible being a vampire… But no vampire would leave a fresh kill with blood."

Damon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He placed the bottle of Bourbon on the coffee table. "No, it was certainly a demon. The only demon's that can control dreams are Succubus, Incubi and Alp's." Damon paused for a moment, thinking over the moments he had seen. "It was male, definitely male. A Succubus would have had a more feminine familiar. But only an Alp would be able to create nightmares that vivid."

Elijah nodded slowly. They lapsed into silence for a few seconds, the only sound being the cracking of the firewood. "An Alp. Or maybe it is a hybrid like yourself: a demon of mixed heritage. I thought Incubus had limited dream control?"

"They do, but it's purely used as a sexual nature. The same way a Succubus will use hers. They feed from sexual intercourse. The demon could be mixed, in which case we're fucked."

"Eloquent language, as always," Elijah commented dryly. "What threat will it pose if it is mixed?"

"It will have powers of both. From the Incubus it will gain powers of seduction and it will use it anyone; their notorious for being bisexual. Fantastic creatures if you get a group of Succubus in a bar," Damon added with a smirk. "And the Alp heritage will allow it to control dreams, and slowly send the person insane."

"And for protection? Surely there is a weakness for all demons?"

"There is," Damon said slowly. He rose from his seat on the couch, only now aware that his wings still protruded from his back. They wouldn't fold away until he was away from Elijah. "But why would I tell my enemy that?" Damon smirked.

"You need me, Damon," Elijah growled. His control was slipping; the dark capillaries around his eyes were still there. "Alone we're nothing. It will control us." Elijah paused and he leaned back, suddenly casual. "What happens if it takes a liking to either you or Elena? What will you do when it claims her, or you cheat on her?"

When Elijah continued to stare at him, Damon knew he was lost. Elijah had manipulated him to a dead end. There was no way he would be able to defeat the demon on his own. Especially if it had a mixed heritage. He would need Elijah, if not for the actual killing, but as a look out or someone who could gather information.

"Fine," he said stiffly. "But don't think I won't hesitate to rip what's left of your soul from your body as soon as the demon is dead."

"The feeling is mutual, Damon."

**Angel of Death**

Lucerna reclined back on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a book on her lap. After giving her blood to Bonnie, she was finally back to her normal health. The regeneration of her blood had taken quite some time – probably because the ring had needed some of her life essence as well. Longer than what any of them had expected.

But it was fine now. At least her health was. Lucerna's relationship with Damon was now strained at best. They were trying, they both were, to overcome the argument they had had. But she knew Damon felt betrayed. Lucerna knew that the trust he had in her was fragmented. But at the same time, she couldn't have told him that it was her blood in the ring. If she had then Damon would never have accepted it.

What was done was now done. Nothing could be changed. And it made it all worth it to see Damon walk into the house after being with Elena. He was changed. He was never the brooding type; he'd always been too laid-back for that, even as a child. Yet he'd always carried the weight on his shoulders and the infinite "_what ifs"_ that plagued his life. _What if I was human? What if Rose hadn't died? What if we hadn't come to Mystic Falls? What if?_ And now she could see him without all that. Granted he was still an Angel of Death – the only way he could be rid of his demonic side were if he and Elena were to actually consummate their bond. But the pain of changing was gone, and the blindness that he had despised had been lifted. And now, now he could have a conscience when he killed. He wouldn't be left with questions that neither of them could answer. And more importantly, he could now pick who died: they didn't have to be innocent-

Lucerna's thoughts were broken when she heard the living room door creak open. She'd been so wrapped up in her own mind that she hadn't heard the stranger break into her home. But as she snapped around to face the stranger, she realised it wasn't a stranger.

It was someone she hadn't seen in centuries. Or even in millenniums. The last time she'd seen was when Damon was two. And that was a hell of a long time ago. He hadn't seen Damon then, instead Lucerna had sent him out to a friend's (now long dead) house. And she could only thank her lucky stars that Damon was out at the minute.

"Giuseppe Salvatore," her voice was calm and controlled. Emotionless. But inside she was shaking. After all this time, what did that monster want? And in her mind she knew. He wanted Damon. And he'd do all he could to take her son away from her. Giuseppe hadn't just left. He'd left Damon with Lucerna, allowing her to form an attachment to her son which would only make his attempt at separation worse… "It's been a long time." She rose from her chair, placing her hot chocolate on top of her book.

"Far too long," Giuseppe answered. He was subtly looking around the room, his nose slightly turned up. He turned his midnight gaze upon her. Like always, he saw nothing. Yet his gaze (focussed by her heat signature) looked in her direction. He hadn't changed in all the time they had spent apart. His black hair was in the same style, his face still ageless. "You've done well to hide so long, Lucerna."

She bristled at his choice of words. "I wasn't hiding. Merely moving on with my life."

"You weren't hiding. But whenever I got within a countries width of being near you, you moved yourself and _my_ son further afield." Nothing about his posture screamed that he was a threat to her. But Lucerna knew him all too well. Beneath his cold voice, a threat lurked.

Giuseppe had a point. Not that Lucerna was going to admit that to him. Whenever she had sensed him closing in she had moved herself and Damon to another country, another continent if that were possible. "I don't see why that would be a problem considering your…nature," she spat. He was an Incubus. The only reason Damon had been born was due to the fact that Giuseppe had seduced her. Not that she would change any of that. Lucerna had gotten Damon from it all.

"My "nature" is the same as my son's. Both of them." Lucerna froze at his words. If Giuseppe was here, then no doubt his other son would be too. And Damon was out God only knew where doing something that he wouldn't tell her. "It's time the boy learnt how to become a true demon."

"He's mixed heritage," Lucerna said slowly as she advanced on Giuseppe. He'd be damned if he took the only reason for her existence. "You won't know what to do with the side he inherited from me."

An arrogant chuckle came from Giuseppe. There was an odd gleam in his eyes and a smirk graced his lips. It was that smirk, along with his seduction, that had made her fall for him. Despite all her best efforts, her heart still fluttered in her chest at the sound of his voice. But his next words killed everything. "That can be cured easily." He said the word 'cured' as if Damon had some kind of disease. "I'll take him to Lucifer – and I'll have the light wiped from him."

Lucerna couldn't stop them. Her wings unfurled from between her shoulder blades and through the slits in her blouse. Anger coursed through her, dousing everything she had ever felt for the demon in front of her. "You will not," she growled lowly, stalking towards him. Her blue eyes flashed and the smirk on Giuseppe's lips fell for a second. "He is my child, you have no right!"

"Ah ah ah! He is also mine too." Giuseppe dared to raise a pointed finger at her. "Damon is not solely yours."

"You were never a father to him!" She was shouting now, and cracks were forming in the ceiling. She was losing control. She had to rein it in other wise Damon would know. He'd know and he would come home. "You left him, you bastard! If you could live all this time without him, then you can continue to do so! I'll fight you to the death. I'll rip you limb from limp before I let you lay a finger on my boy." Her voice was lowered and shaking in fury. God that bastard! What had she ever seen in him? Around her she felt the familiar heat beginning to prickle around her. Giuseppe was even trying to seduce her. "I wouldn't try that if I were you," Lucerna ground out. "It won't work. I'm not as foolish as I once was."

In front of her, Giuseppe had tensed. Two large wings, reaching either wall of the living room unfurled from his back. They were the same style as Damon's; tattered and torn though Giuseppe's had gold tips to every feather. The colour was the ranking in Lucifer's circle. "You know I always get what I want." This time he hadn't bothered to hide the threatening tone in his voice. "You know I always do. And I'll have you both, Lucerna. Damon will become mine. I'll rid him of your heritage! And as for you…you'll be the easier out of the two of you to claim."

**Hey up! I'll apologise in advance for the lack of Delena in this chapter, but I thought it was necessary to get the story moving. So, what are your thoughts on Stefan and Giuseppe? And how do you think Damon will react when he finds out he has a brother, and his father's back? I'd love to know! Thank you for all your reviews and I hope you continue to review! :D The Nutty One xx**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

When Damon arrived home, he knew something was wrong. The front door was left wide open and a new scent lingered around the door frame. He walked cautiously towards the house and pushed the door open to its widest point. The hinges moaned as the door swung open, revealing the shadowy hallway. The scent was stronger here. It was similar to his own, which was strange, because only family members would have a similar scent. And it definitely wasn't Lucerna's.

He didn't call out. Damon wasn't that stupid. Why give his position away should an intruder be lurking? Despite the presence of the Lapis Lazuli, his wings began to itch beneath his skin. Someone else was in his territory. And that meant that someone could be threatening Lucerna, or even Elena… The mere thought of either of them coming to harm cause Damon to have to bite back a growl. If anyone had touched them…

He stalked through the hallway, wings struggling to break free, following the intruder's scent. Damon passed door after door, snarling quietly when the scent began to fade, only to flare more violently in another direction. As he neared the lounge, he heard soft cries. They were muffled, as if from behind a sleeve. Damon paused behind the door, listening for any other sounds. There were none. Whoever it was was alone. He tested the lock, and when it unlocked easily, he pushed the door open.

Lucerna sat against the wall, her knees pulled up and her sleeve covering her face as she wiped away at her nose and eyes. She flinched as the door opened, her tear stained face going pink from shock or fight, maybe both. When she saw Damon, she didn't calm. Instead she cried harder and shook her head violently. Her sobs grew louder as Damon approached, making his heart clench in his chest.

The last time she'd reacted like this was when… Was when that bastard had caught up with them. Damon had been at a friend's house (who was now long gone) and had come back to seeing Lucerna in a similar state. The next day they had left. They hadn't told anyone where they were going. And then the scent became familiar. Damon did know it. He'd sensed it before, centuries ago when he'd first come home.

His father's.

Giuseppe's scent.

The only thing that kept his wings from bursting from beneath his skin, was Lucerna's state. He quickly cleared the distance between them and gathered her in his arms, not caring when she flinched and tried to pull away. She wasn't in her right mind. He tried to stop the pang of hurt that went through him as she struggled weakly against his arms. Seconds later, she relaxed against his body though her shoulders were still tense from her sobs. Salty tears soaked his dark navy shirt as he rubbed her shoulder blades softly. Beneath her skin he could feel her wings moving; reacting to her clear distress.

"H-he's been here," she began suddenly, her tears coming harder as she spoke. Lucerna's words were rough with emotion and they surprised Damon. At least she was recovering quicker than last time… "He's been here, today…" she repeated and Damon instantly knew who _he _was. Deciding not to pressurise her, he waited for Lucerna to tell him more.

"I was just r-reading… And he turned up. He d-demanded that," she sobbed harder, her breathing becoming shallower and hitched. Feeling the restlessness beneath her skin, Damon moved his hand lower down her back. Moments later, two brilliant white wings burst through the slits in her blouse. The light that shone from them was brighter than usual, influenced by her extreme emotions. "That you go with him."

At her words, Damon could no longer hold back the growl that had been brewing form the past few moments. Giuseppe, his bastard of a father, honestly thought he would go with him? "I'm not going with him, mum. I won't leave you, you know I won't."

She hiccupped loudly, her body jolting against his. "But he'll force you." She moved so her blue eyes, reddened from her tears, could look at his own. "He said he'll take you to Lucifer – to have your light banished."

Try as he might, Damon couldn't help but tense. Lucifer would banish his angel heritage, forcing him to become a demon forever. Not even his mate, Elena, would be able to cure him. And he would be blind; he'd never see her again… He wouldn't see anything again. He would be a slave to his instincts; nothing would stop him from sucking the soul from every living creature that came near him – even if it was Elena or Lucerna. When she felt him tense, Lucerna sobbed harder.

"Lucerna, mum," Damon began softly, carding his fingers through the feathers on her wings. "You need to calm down. I'm here. Nothing's gonna take me away. But I need you to calm down. I'll go get some hot chocolate, Lord knows it works every time."

He was pleased when he felt her chuckle against his shoulder. As he stood, he murmured: "I'll be back in a minute." As Damon left, he heard a dull thud. He glanced back and saw Lucerna had thrown her head back against the wall and had signed dramatically. At least she looked to have calmed slightly.

He came back ten minutes later, clutching a mug of hot chocolate. He passed it to her and sank down beside her. After taking a sip, Lucerna began to talk.

"Giuseppe is back. You're father, he's back and he knows where we are." She took a deep breath and another sip of her hot chocolate. "And he wants you back, Damon. He said he would take you to L-Lucifer." She stuttered over the name and sniffled.

Damon shook his head. "He won't do. You know that, we can fight him off between the two of us." There was a moment of silence before Damon brought up the topic of the suicide. "Giuseppe is an Incubus, right?" Damon knew that for a fact…but there was no way else he could possibly begin to bring this up. At the look on Lucerna's face, he was already starting to regret it. When she nodded, Damon continued. "Well, I found a suicide victim in the woods the other day. When I went closer I saw the corpse's final moments. Something had sent them insane, and an Incubus doesn't have that level of dream control, do they?"

"No." She frowned and then looked up at Damon. "They don't." Lucerna paused and then shock and fear flowered on her face. "You mean to say…that there's another demon?"

He hated to do it, but he nodded. He confirmed her worst nightmare. "Yeah, I spoke to Elijah." Damon raised a hand when he saw Lucerna try and rebuke him. "No, he didn't try and eat me this time. And he agreed that it could be an Alp."

"Why did you go to him? Elijah Mikaelson tried to drain you! You should have come to me!" Lucerna exclaimed, temporarily distracted because of her son's safety. "An Alp? But Giuseppe said his other son was here too…"

Damon felt his heart plummet. Giuseppe was an Incubus, and the other demon was his son. Which meant it would be a hybrid – part Incubus and part Alp. And it was his brother. He had a brother… Anger swelled deep within him. How long had Lucerna known about this? How long had he kept that fact from him? When she saw Damon's fists clench, she rushed to answer.

"No! No! Damon, I only found out earlier! I didn't have a clue! For all I knew he could have a line of bastard children or just you!" Tears had begun to swell in her eyes again and she clutched at his shirt with her fists. "Please, Damon, I didn't know! I'd have told you if I had done!"

"I know, I know," he tried to soothe her. But inside he didn't know who he was soothing: himself or Lucerna. He had a brother. There was another Salvatore out there…one that was intent on making people insane. And whoever his brother was would be a demon: crossed with Giuseppe's Incubus heritage and its mother's Alp heritage. Which would mean Elena, and Lucerna, would be in danger. The hand that was slowly carding through Lucerna's wings, clenched in frustration. He would protect them – with his life if necessary. "I'll kill them. I'll kill them both if they threaten us. Can't you leave the country? Go somewhere Giuseppe wouldn't think of?"

"And leave you behind?"

"If it means you're out of danger, then go. Please, if it means you're safe…" he trailed off, thinking of all the places she could go for safety. "In fact, don't tell me where you'll go. That way if anything happens to me, they still won't know-"

"No!" She shook her head and pushed him away. She stood quickly, her wings flashing dangerously behind her. "No! I won't hand you over to them! I know you can't leave – you won't leave Elena… But no, Damon, please, I can't… I can't leave you to fight that monster…"

"Lucerna! Mum! Please, you've got to go, I can't have you in danger. It's only because of me that you're in this mess to begin with… Please, go. Go somewhere safe…"

A single tear trailed down her face. "No, Damon. I can't. You'll understand someday, you will, but I can't go… I can't leave you here, not knowing if I'll ever see you again."

**Angel of Death**

_I need to talk to you. Can you come over? I don't want anyone else to overhear. Damon x_

When Elena got the message, her heart clenched. What had happened that needed totally privacy? It couldn't concern their relationship, nothing like that would need privacy… The only thing she could think of was Damon's supernatural abilities. Did that mean he was hurt?

She'd never packed her bag so quickly. When she had ran down the steps, Alaric and Jenna had called out to her, asking why she was in a hurry. In reply she had said that she needed to go to the library and that she'd left her phone there. It was a crappy excuse, but she'd tell them what she could when she got back.

Elena slid past her car, scraping the paint work with a button on the back of her jeans. She didn't care. And it would be quicker running…the car took at least five minutes to turn around because it was that big. Her bag bounced on her hip as she ran, her long brown hair flying back in the breeze. Damon's message continued to run through her mind, making her heart race even more. God, if anything had happened to him…

She couldn't bear the thought. Sometimes she thought she was in the dark because of all the supernatural things. And she hated it. Elena felt stupid and naive compared to Damon who knew things she could only dream about knowing. She always had to ask him to explain about different supernatural creatures so she could understand them. Every now and again, her heartbeat would quicken when she'd see his wings and memories of the party night would flash through her mind. Those were the moments she hated the most. When, no matter how hard she tried, her instincts would flare up again and make her fear him…

But if he was hurt… Once more her heart clenched painfully. When she reached the large boarding house, she knocked loudly on the door. Seconds later, Lucerna answered. Seeing Damon's mother shocked her. Elena wasn't expecting to see her…

"H-hey!" She stuttered and waved awkwardly.

"Hello, you must be Elena," Lucerna nodded at her, a knowing smile gracing her lips. It was the first time she'd seen Lucerna, and she felt inadequate compared to her. The angel had caramel curly hair; it was perfect and the breeze hardly ruffled it. Her blue eyes seemed to scan Elena's face as if checking to see if she was worth Damon's attention. Whatever she saw, she must have been satisfied with because her eyes seemed to light up. "I'm Lucerna, I don't know if Damon has mentioned me or not."

She nodded and clutched the strap on her bag. By God, the woman wasn't even trying yet she was intimidating! An aura of goodness radiated from her and Lucerna's beauty outstripped all of the girls that Elena thought were pretty. "Yeah he's mentioned you."

Lucerna pursed her lips. She was probably wondering which things Damon had told her about. She smiled seconds later, and said, "Well, I best be on my way! I've got things to do, places to be and people to meet!" She slid past Elena and waved over her shoulder. As she walked away, her curls bounced. "By the way, Damon's in his room. He said he needs to talk to you – good luck with that, he's been moody all day!"

Elena waved goodbye at her before stepping through the door and closing it behind her. At least the whole "meet the parents" didn't seem to go too badly. If anything, Lucerna acted more like Damon's sister than his mother.

She didn't waste any more time. Instead she moved through the house, going straight for the staircase. Elena was surprised that she could even remember her way through the house; the last time she had been here had been when Damon had confessed what he was – and he'd rushed her around the house until they had reached the basement where he'd shown her Rose-Marie's death. But she knew when she reached Damon's room. She didn't know how she knew, she just did. It was as if he was calling out for her…

Raising her hand to knock, Elena paused for a moment. Seconds later her hands fell from the door. She couldn't do it… What if he was badly hurt? What if she saw something she didn't want to see? By opening the door, would it change everything she knew and everything she hoped for? At the minute she knew relatively little – she could still continue with a normal human life if she wished.

But opening this door…how deep would she be pulled into Damon's life? Would she ever be able to go back? And did she want to know that much?

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the door handle. She could do this. She had to do this. No matter what happened, she was Damon's mate. Elena could handle everything else that came towards them, so long as that one fact remained.

The door opened quietly, and she stepped through. Immediately her eyes locked onto the large bed that dominated the room. Thankfully, Damon wasn't on it. So that had to mean that he wasn't hurt, right? Her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the room before landing on the figure that stood in front of the large windows.

Damon's figure blocked the light, casting out a large shadow behind him. He had his back to Elena, and in his hand he held a sparkling glass of alcohol – no doubt Bourbon if she knew his taste. His shoulders drooped and his wings were spread from his back. The black feathers seemed limp and his wings hung slightly, and missed their usual gleam when caught in the sun.

Damon's voice startled her. He spoke softly, defeat laced into his tone. "It's all gone wrong. Everything has gone wrong." His wings lowered as he turned to face her. "Everything's gone wrong."

She didn't like this. He seemed so desolate and desperate. Everything Damon was saying made no sense. Elena took a few steps forward, hesitant to ask what was wrong. Instead she stood in the middle of the room, her hands wrapped around her body as Damon continued to look at her. Neither said anything for what seemed like minutes. Finally, when she could bear the silence no longer, she spoke. "What's happened, Damon? What's gone wrong?"

"Everything," he repeated and his voice was barely audible. In that moment he seemed to age completely. No longer could she see the care-free, flirty individual that she'd fallen for. Instead she saw someone she didn't recognise. Lines creased in his forehead from frowning and his eyes were narrowed as he thought. The sparkles that had been in his eyes had diminished and burnt out, leaving only the soul filled black that scared her more than anything. They looked so empty - so emotionless. "Everything has been fucked up!" He threw the glass across the room, where it splintered into tiny fragments. When she flinched, Damon barely glanced at her.

"Damon, calm down. Just calm down. You can tell me what's wrong, it can't be that bad."

"My father's back. Giuseppe is back. I have a brother. An insane brother." His words were choked out, as if he couldn't believe them himself. Elena saw him sag against the wall, defeated.

Taking the final steps towards him, she placed her hands on the wall on either side of his body. It wouldn't be much of a deterrent if he wanted to move away…but hopefully he wouldn't. "You need to tell me everything. Please, Damon, I need to know what's so "fucked" up."

He raised his eyes to meet hers. "You won't leave me? Promise me, Elena, you won't leave me the same way everyone else has left me?"

A chill went down her spine. She wouldn't leave him, not if she had anything to do about it. But one day, one day they couldn't control, she would leave him. And deep down, she knew that was what he meant. They couldn't spend eternity together. Elena swallowed thickly, her eyes seeming to burn all of a sudden. She bit her lip, and for some reason she couldn't meet Damon's gaze as she muttered: "don't be daft, I'll always be here," because she knew, deep down, that she was lying. She couldn't always be there for him…

His hands snaked around her waist, and pulled her body flush to his as if to prove to himself that she was actually there. His hands gripped her waist, not tightly enough to bruise, but hard enough that she wouldn't be able to move away. Damon pressed his lips to hers and she offered them freely. There was a desperation to his kiss, as if he was trying to find something he couldn't find. It was rougher than normal, his lips seeming to bruise hers. One of his hands moved to thread through her hair and bring her closer to him. "Please, you won't ever leave me. Even if I do tell you everything?"

She pulled away from him and his hand fell from her hair. "Even if you tell me everything," she promised. "Come on," Elena grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed. "If we need to talk, we're at least doing it in comfort." At her words, she saw Damon smirk. It didn't meet his eyes like usual, but it was something at least. When they were sat in the centre of the bed, Elena nodded for him to begin.

"I haven't told you everything that's happened lately," Damon began. As much as she hated his words, Elena didn't interrupt. "The other day, I found a suicide victim in the forest." Damon glanced at her out of his eye corner. "They'd been sent insane by a demon. So I went to Elijah Mikaelson to discuss things, we thought it could be an Alp."

Elena nodded. She knew what an Alp was. She'd come across them when she had researched the Angel of Death after her first dream of Damon. They had the ability to control the dreams or nightmares of their victims.

"And when I arrived home, I met Lucerna. She was crying. When I calmed her she told me that Giuseppe – my father – had visited her. He had threatened her so she might give me up. After Lucerna said no, he said it would only be a matter of time before he took me to Lucifer to have my light expelled." Damon must have seen her confused expression, for he explained: "having my light expelled would mean that I would become a true demon. I would be like my father. There would be no hope for me."

Elena didn't say anything. Instead they sat in silence. She couldn't think of anything other than Damon becoming a full demon. If that happened then he wouldn't have a mate, he'd never see her again and he'd be a slave to his instincts. Tears began to prickle in her eyes but she forced them back. She couldn't afford to be weak – not when Damon needed her. "There's something else, isn't there?" Damon's silence and the looks he was giving her gave him away.

Damon shook his head as if to ward off her words and block them from himself. Whatever it was it had to be bad. "I have a step-brother," he said quietly. He looked up at her, watching or her reaction.

Damon said he had a brother. Damon Salvatore. Stefan Salvatore. They were half-brothers like she had guessed. Black soulless eyes and brown jelled hair flashed through her mind. God, he was dating Caroline. The bastard had called her as soon as they had gotten home from Starbucks… "Stefan Salvatore," she breathed, her hand clutching Damon's. "Is he called Stefan? Because I've met him, he introduced himself in Starbucks."

The hand she was holding clenched within her grasp. "You've met him?" Damon growled the words and Elena wasn't too sure whether the growl was directed at her or Stefan. "I didnt't even know his name, and he's approached you…" There was another growl. His grip tightened on her and he pulled her closer. Possessive. Jealous. "Stefan Salvatore," he said the name with disgust and mistrust. "Stefan Fucking Salvatore. What did he look like? So then I know who I'm looking for."

Elena answered immediately. "Black eyes, obviously, and dark brown jelled hair. He sort of has a square jaw…and, in fact, do you know who Justin Bieber is?" When Damon nodded, she continued. "Cause he looks like a more butch version of him." At her comparison, Damon laughed loudly, his entire body shuddering with the force of his humour. When he had calmed, Elena saw the sparkle that she loved so much was back. The lines that had been on his face previously had cleared and he looked younger, handsome and like the man she had fallen for.

"So I'm looking for a celebrity look-alike?"

"Pretty much. So what is he?"

"An hybrid: part Incubus and part Alp I think. Lucerna and Elijah think the same." Damon became silent suddenly and moved away to route through one of his bedside drawers. "I made this earlier on, before you came over. Please, even if you don't wear it, keep it in your bag or something." He handed her a silver locket and when she went to open it, he covered her hands with his. "Don't open it. The mixture that's in it will come out. It's a mix of different herbs that will protect you from demons and their powers. And there is Vervain in there as well, in case Elijah decides to try his compulsion."

"So it's a bit like a condom against the supernatural?"

Damon raised his eyebrows for a second before he laughed once more. God it felt nice to make him laugh and bring him out of the depressed mood he was in before. "Imagine the durex advert for that..." They both laughed again and fell back on the bed.

When they had managed to calm themselves, Elena took the locket from Damon. She held it between her fingers before sitting up and handing to back to Damon. "Do you mind fastening the back? I'm not that much of a contortionist to do it myself."

As Damon fastened the locket, his fingers brushed the nape of her neck and a shiver went through her body. Once he'd fastened the locket, his hands didn't leave her body. Instead they drifted down her sides and gripped her hips, turning her so that she straddled his hips. "We can work on turning you into a contortionist," Damon muttered as his hands slipped under her blouse. "But in the meantime…" He trailed off as he gripped the fabric of her top and pulled it over her head. "There are other things we can do…"

**Hey up! Sorry for the long wait, I've had so many tests of stuff at school it has been mad! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I love to know your thoughts! Sorry this was a bit of an angst chapter but I couldn't get it to turn out any other way. Please review, they motivate me to write more! And thanks for all your previous reviews, and to the readers that have stuck by me through this awful wait…about 3 weeks I think. :O**

** Thanks for reading. The Nutty One xx**


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